


the little things (that i miss)

by da_moose



Series: the little things (they mean so much, don't they?) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF May Parker, BAMF Michelle Jones, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Pepper Potts, Bisexual Peter Parker, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I promise it has a happy ending, Irondad, May Parker Can Weild Mjolnir, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Parent Tony Stark, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Can Wield Mjolnir, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Protective Tony Stark, Skip Westcott Being a Jerk, Stephen Strange Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, You can pry bi peter from my cold dead hands, eventually, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29277408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/da_moose/pseuds/da_moose
Summary: Peter will never know the smiles and laughs and pre-ordered food that felt so homemade. He’ll never know sunny days and warm blankets, he’ll never go back to AceDec or to Ned’s lego set. No. That was Before. The little things he never noticed but always had until he didn’t.The little things he should’ve known were too good to last.After all, Rome wasn’t built in a day.But it fell in one.
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Stephen Strange, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Series: the little things (they mean so much, don't they?) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172120
Comments: 86
Kudos: 126





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Lost and Forgotten](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16822540) by [Litcraz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Litcraz/pseuds/Litcraz). 



> So... uh... new fic!! on ao3!! ye!! this book is inspired by the amazing @Litcraz, her/his/their book called Lost and Forgotten is AMAZING and you need to check it out.

Peter never appreciated the little things.

Like Mr. Delmar’s sandwiches, he’d buy them every week after school, munching on them after patrol, sitting on his favourite fire escape and watching the sunset.

Or Aunt May’s cooking. She’s a terrible cook, by the way. She’d buy some super-easy to make meals, but ultimately, fail at it. Peter would come back from patrol taking off his suit when the fire alarm would go off, and May would apologize, and they’d go out and have some lunch at some random restaurant. Their dinners weren’t as lively as they were with Ben. Ben was the cook of the family, they’d turn on the news and sit there, chatting lively and brightly. But he still had Aunt May.

Or even Ned and MJ. Ned greeted him at the end of the day with a bright smile, whether they were calling over video chat or they were there, in real life. MJ giving him tips on how to solve murders, better fighting stances, her half-smile that she got every time Peter accidentally missed AceDec, smacking him on the back of his head with her huge book, sometimes hard enough that it bruised.

And later, Mr. Stark. Pepper. Happy. Steve and Bucky and Natasha and Sam and Clint and Wanda and Vision, Mr. Stark’s whining- _“why won’t you call me Tony?”_ \- the two nerding out together in Mr. Stark’s huge lab- _“Someone’s excited.” “Have you seen this lab?”_ \- or Natasha beating him at combat- _“Pretty good for a spiderling.”_ \- or Bucky’s face when Clint, Sam, and Peter introduced him to video games. Wanda’s laugh when they tried to sneak up on her but _just couldn’t_ , Vision’s _terrible_ cooking, Pepper plotting with Aunt May in the worst of ways, Happy groaning about Peter but smiling in the rearview mirror, all of them.

They seemed so little, you know? The things that Peter never spared a second glance at, never thought about. Food, water, his family. They all were just… there. They were always there, even when it was just May and Ned during the hard times, and then MJ tagged along, then Mr. Stark, then his collection of family and people he loved just grew and grew until he could no longer count them on both hands.

And then they were taken from him.

They used to be so present, always there for him. No one would ever take Uncle Ben’s spot in his heart, other people came and made that gap just a little easier, his guilt just a little lighter, and then they were ripped away from him, feeling like nothing but dreams he’ll never see, lights he’ll never reach.

Living, breathing ghosts that will haunt Peter for the rest of his life.

Because some days he’ll cross the street and May will pass by him, never noticing what once she told him was the light of her life, Ned and Peter will cross paths and he’ll never spare him a glance and just give him 20 bucks ‘cause he’s _kind_ like that. MJ slipping him some food on the street because Peter was so much thinner than the Before and then never talking to him again, Mr. Delmar no longer giving him free discounts or talking about his aunt quietly in Spanish, him passing by Midtown and never being able to go past the gates again.

All the littlest things he never noticed until it was too late.

Peter’s face will be just another in a crowd to Pepper, Spider-man will no longer be the best member of Avengers, no more late-night talks about nightmares or PTSD or anxiety or sensory overloads, no more random, out of place pranks that make him feel so much at home. No more of Visions terrible cooking or Wanda’s Sokovian accent, or battles that would tear on days on end, but Mr. Stark’s smile when they said we won that makes everything worth it. No. They won’t be there anymore, just faded memories, black and white and edges faded with grey.

Peter looks at those memories, those days of the Before, of happiness and bright smiles and winter fights and games and pranks, he misses even the hard days of Before, because then May and Ned and MJ and Mr. Stark were there to help him, and now, when his days of After are so much harder than before, he’ll never get to see Ned’s grin or MJ’s half-smile or smell the burning food or Motor oil and Coffee.

No. Those days are the ones Peter will never see again, those days of Before buried under the wreckage of the warehouse and his thin blankets. Now is the After, and really, Peter should’ve seen the After coming.

But no. He just sat there, ignorant and stupid and too dumb to remember that he ruins everything he touches, that his love only brings flames that burn everything to ash, how no, this time won’t be different, you’re just ignorant.

There’s a difference between Before and After.

Before was the summer, full of brightness and summer rain and sunny days and park trips.

After was the snow of winter, of the truth unmasking beneath his feet.

Peter will never know the smiles and laughs and pre-ordered food that felt so homemade. He’ll never know sunny days and warm blankets, he’ll never go back to AceDec or Ned’s lego set. No. That was Before. The little things he never noticed but always had until he didn’t.

The little things he should’ve known were too good to last.

After all, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

But it fell in one.


	2. Chapter One: Wow, Fate Really Hates Peter, Doesn’t It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter sees his aunt again. Sorta. Not really, and it makes him a little sad.

Peter went for his usual run at 7:53 in the morning, the winter air harsh on his skin, the paleness turning pink and soft and feeling brittle. Usually, at least one customer at Delmars throws something so important as leftovers, and Peter would manage to swipe some before they went into the trash.

Today wasn’t as lucky as it could’ve been. Had he woken just ten minutes earlier, he might’ve gotten a half-full coffee cup and a breakfast sandwich that had only been bitten once. Now, all he got was an almost empty cup of Coke, that Peter downed in half a second.

Peter isn’t complaining.

He put on his Spider-man suit and went out to walk people home even if Peter didn’t have one, to avoid the remaining police that hadn’t realized he was an ally. It had taken almost a year, as well as an insane Green Goblin for the police to recognize Peter’s intentions, and some of them still don’t.

Before, it had only been 3 months and no insane supervillains.

Peter had woken up in the alley, fifteen and forgotten by the world, with the lingering threat against him and his family- could he call them his family?- etched into the forefront of his brain. On the good days of the After, he’d look at his memories wistfully, smiling as he chomped down the free Churro that a nice old lady gave him. On the bad days of the After, he’d wonder, broken and hurt in the back of an alley if those days of Before never existed, if he was just going insane and lonely and broken and hurt for so long.

He's now almost seventeen, and his eighteenth birthday feels too far away.

Once he's eighteen, he could get a job and get some food, maybe fall in love and forget his memories. Forget the Before like it was never there. Peter wishes it was never there. That would make accepting the After so much easier.

The sun was setting when Peter smelt the smoke.

He had saved some new sandwich owner from probably getting murdered, and in thanks, she gave Peter a free sandwich, which tasted almost as good as Delmars- almost. Then the familiar- too familiar- smell of smoke greeted him, a fire truck racing down the street, and Peter, for a moment, wondered if Aunt May had messed up dinner so bad that she had to call the fire department.

Then Peter remembered that he wasn’t going home to Aunt May, and that May wasn’t cooking food for him.

Peter jumps up, eyes wide.

He curses, his voice carrying uselessly through the wind as he drops his sandwich, jumping up and racing towards the apartment building that smoke was billowing out of. Fire alarms were blaring, something that felt too familiar for Peter’s taste, and he easily swung down, greeting the firemen.

“How many people are in there?” He asks, and to her credit, the firewoman didn’t jump. She did look like she had seen a ghost. Hah, a ghost. Peter is practically a ghost sometimes.

“2 or 3, Mr. Spider-man.”

“Got it, get as many people away from the area. See if any of the people are on the ground floor and get them out. I’ll deal with the rest.” Peter says, ignoring the way his heart drops to the floor when he realizes which apartment building this was. Wow, fate really just likes playing with him.

“Thank… Thank you- Thank you, Spider-man, sir.”

“No problemo, Mrs. Firewoman. Just doing my job.”

May couldn’t be in the building, right? She is smarter than most- she always left the building when a faulty fire-alarm went off. “You can never be too careful,” She had said. But doubt crawls into Peter’s veins when he thinks further. May’s apartment was on some of the highest floors, what if… no.

Peter shoots a web, hitting the concrete of the building, and Peter expertly moves his webs so he could swing up. He sticks to the wall, ignoring the careful warning from Karen, and he swings back, breaking a window. He jumps in, blinking as his eyes water when making contact with the heat.

“Careful, Peter,” Karen says, her voice soft and worried. “The heat of the fire is 104 degrees Fahrenheit, stay on the ground and far away from the heat.”

“Nah, Karen,” Peter replies to his AI, listening closely to the crying of what could be a 6-year-old. “I’ll be fine.”

“Shall I call Mr- nevermind.”

Peter hates how crestfallen Karen sounds when she realizes what his answer has to be, because Mr. Stark doesn’t know him, does he? “Karen, I really gotta update your coding, you know?” He says, running through the thick smoke and shoving the door, hard. His eyes meeting the scared eyes of a young little boy and an older woman.

He hoists the boy in his arms and turns to the woman, making his way towards the window. “Wrap your arms around my waist or something.”

“What?”

“I’ve done it a ton of times, burning buildings in New York aren’t exactly new. Come on!”

The woman does as he says, and he elbows the window. Hard, and glass shatters, sprinkling across the floor in shards as he jumps down from the window, the woman screaming as he shoots a web out from his arms and swings down, landing firmly on his feet. The woman lets go of his waist and Peter gently puts the boy in her arms.

“Is there anyone else in there?”

“Floor 5! Room 126A!”

Dread creeps up from Peter’s stomach, and he jumps up, landing smoothly onto a wall and climbs up, breaking another window, coughing as much thicker smoke makes its way into Peter’s lungs. “Peter, you need to get out of here, or you’ll choke, or burn, or-” Karen’s voice is slightly hysterical, and Peter ignores her. “We have to get my aunt- I mean, May out of here.

He scours the place for his old apartment, thankful for how he remembers the route because the smoke is too thick for Peter to see through. “Karen?”

“I’m detecting movement in the south-east room, I believe it might be…” Karen’s voice is soft again, trailing off, and Peter doesn’t need her to finish the sentence to understand. Oh. Wow, fate really _hates_ him, doesn’t it? “Great, uh…”

He pushes as hard as he can against the door, but there’s no need to. It falls down so effortlessly it feels like Peter was pushing a feather. Peter stumbles in, eyes wide as he practically zooms towards what’s left of his room, panic rising in his throat like bile.

He stumbles forward, eyes tracing across where May might be, where May might be _dying,_ and he pulls.

He rips piece and piece of concrete out from the wreckage, Karen’s panicked voice sounding too faint and too far away. “May, you cannot die, you hear me? You survived Uncle Ben dying, you survived so many fires like this, you cannot- you can’t-!”

Finally, he finds the half-conscious body of his aunt and carefully wraps his arms around her, practically jumping out of the window. Aunt May mumbles a bit deliriously about how Peter knows her husband's name? Peter lands on the ground, hearing a sickening crack of his ankle but Peter doesn’t care.

“I gotta go,” Peter all but mumbles, dropping his aunt’s body in a fireman’s arms, and shoots a web towards a nearby building. “Salvage as much of the building as you can.”

He doesn’t look back when he swings away.

_“Touch them- go near them, even speak to them? I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all, and you’ll be the reason they’re dead.”_

~~~

_“Today, Spider-man saved 3 citizens in a burning building, a young, 5-year-old child and a Mother, as well as a woman on one of the highest floors. Christine, what do you have to say about this?”_

_“Well, Josh…”_

Peter swung through the city, his unfortunate ears picking up the sound of the TV screens of the homes below him, his eyes firmly trained on the path towards his home- or, what he calls his home. House, maybe? If a half-burned down house with barely enough space for a couple of blankets can be called a house.

Really, Peter wishes he had the guts to make a fake ID. Maybe get an apartment or something. But also technically he’s Spider-man, and while Spider-man is no Captain America, he is supposed to be… some kind of role model.

He listens with a soft smile as Karen talks about new code ideas and web shooter combinations, and landing with a loud thump onto the ground as he stares triumphantly at the ground. “Hah! How many flips did I do, Karen?”

Karen abruptly cuts herself off, and Peter blinks. “You did 14 flips, Peter.”

Red colours his skin as he takes off his mask, grinning sheepishly. “I’m- I’m sorry, Karen. I wasn’t really listening. I- uh… I’m sorry about cutting you off.” He sighs, rubbing his eyes and staring at his hands for a moment, the silence feeling all too _real_ , and _there_ , and there’s no lively chatter in the background or a random TV show on which Clint recommended to Sam but he isn’t actually watching it or Mr. Stark and Pepper bickering-

“-ter? Peter, Peter, if you don’t answer, I will be forced to call 911.”

Peter snaps out of it, looking up from his hands and giving an awkward smile. “Sorry, Karen. Just spaced out a bit, okay? Sorry for worrying you.”

“You should go to bed, Peter. It’s well past midnight.”

There’s a pause. A long pause and Peter smiles for a moment, taking off the rest of his suit and opening Karen on his Starkphone, wondering for a moment how has Peter not run out of battery?

“Could you, uh, tell me a bit more about- web combination 143?”

He climbs into the thin, scratch, and overall uncomfortable sheets, listening to Karen ramble excitedly. The words make him smile, and he shifts over for a moment. “Thanks, Karen.” He mumbles.

“You’re welcome, Peter.”

He falls asleep with no idea about what’s to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOO drama  
> next chapter is May's POV


	3. Chapter Two: May Questions Her Sanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These are just… hallucinations, right? (Wow, May never thought she’d ever think that.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the last two updates- this is a warning that I edit my chapters regularly... so-  
> Also thank you! over 200 hits already!

When May woke up with dried blood on her shoulder, she thought nothing of it.

When she finds out her stitches tore, she does. The recent scar is traced around the right of her stomach, mostly covering a fraction of her stomach and spreading across the back, there is black, scribbly, scrawling text next to it, with messy words that seems to be purposely smudged, along with her blood.

It was smeared up onto her shoulder, red and uncomfortable. Was someone playing some weird, prank on her? It’s weird that her stitch had been reopened- and that blood was smeared all over her- but May doesn’t really know that many people?

She decides that it’s nothing. Maybe May moved too much in her sleep, and the stitches tore. That’s probably the cost of doing home-made stitches. May can’t afford to go to the hospital, which is a bit ironic, considering that she’s a nurse.

She washes the blood and marker off, and the steam rises up, and May blinks for a moment, staring at the steam as she wraps a towel around her waist.

_A curly-haired teen stands in front of her, walking around in a Spider-man suit and May nearly drops her towel._

_“WHAT THE-”_

_The teen turns around, jumping back with wide eyes. “May! I- uh, it’s- It’s not what it looks like! I- I-” He hurriedly presses the spider emblem in his chest, and it falls, leaving the teen in his boxers, his eyes wide and fearful. “I- uh… cosplay?”_

_“Young man,” May finds herself saying. “You’re Spider- you’re-”_

_“NO! NO I’M NOT, I UH- I’M COSPLAYING WITH NED?”_

_May crosses her arms, and she doesn’t know why she’s so upset, who’s this teen? Why is she in her apartment? Isn’t May supposed to be at the hotel?_

_“Should I call Ned? IS THIS WHAT THE INTERNSHIP WITH MR. STARK IS?”_

_The teen visibly deflates, looking down awkwardly and fiddling with his fingers. “Uh, yeah. Kinda.”_

May blinks, staring there at the foggy filled mirror in the hotel bathroom. What was-? She clutches the towel a bit harder, hesitantly shifting from foot to foot. Who was that teen? Why? Wasn’t that room destroyed in the fire? She rubs her eyes, staring blankly into the now clearing mirror. Oh, yeah. The hallucinations, side effects of banging her head too hard on the ground. She should really get checked with a doctor.

She makes a mental note to schedule an appointment.

She changes into her comfiest clothes, tying her hair back and going to the kitchen to hopefully not burn some cereal. She successfully doesn't burn some cereal, which feels like such an achievement that she grins softly at the O’s in her food.

Maybe May is going insane. She wouldn’t know.

She thinks back to the day before’s events, there was so much smoke, and fire and ash and May can barely remember being buried under the bricks and fallen beams of the extra room in her Apartment. The memory of Spider-man- _the Spider-man_ \- saving her was even more blurry. He was yelling something, and the only thing she could remember was him screaming about how she can’t die.

May didn’t know that Spider-man cared about the citizens of New York _that_ much. It both touched her and worried her.

Another thing- how was Spider-man able to carry her? May is about twice Spider-man’s size, and Spider-man never looked that short or skinny in the videos…

May furrows her brows as she sets the bowl in the sink and pulls on her coat. She needs to go find a new apartment. Really, she does. She can’t live in a hotel for the rest of her life, as much as she wishes she could.

_“What’s the matter? Thought you loved larb. It’s too larby? Not larby enough. How many times do I have to say “larb” before you talk to me? You know I larb you.”_

_“I’m just stressed. The internship and I’m tired. A lot of work.”_

_“If you spot something like that happening, you turn and you run the other way.”_

_“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.”_

_“It’s on the house.”_

_“Oh! Thanks. That’s nice of him.”_

_“I think he larbs you.”_

May blinks, standing in front of the door and staring at the clean, polished wood, for a moment. She pauses before opening the door, pondering what her hallucination of the day was. Her knuckles begin to turn white, and May quickly shakes her head.

She hums softly to herself, opening the door and nearly stepping on a bouquet of flowers on the ground.

“Oh?” May says softly, picking up the lilacs, hyacinths and gardenias, smelling the flowers with a smile. She examines the thick bouquet, smelling the flowers and stepping back inside the hotel room to find a vase.

She pours some water into the random container she found, carefully unwrapping the bouquet and plopping the flowers in the water, picking up the note that had dropped from the wrapping.

She opens it.

_~~Hi Aunt May,~~ _

~~_Hi May,_ ~~

_Hope you’re feeling better!_ ~~_I larb you._~~

_\- Your friendly neighbourhood Spider-man._

May smiles to herself, setting the note against the vase, turning around and leaving for work.

That's nice of him.

~~~

_“So, what do you have to say about the fire, Spider-man? What was it like? Was it scary?”_

_“D- Definitely. There was so much smoke and uh stuff… and uh she kept telling me if I didn’t get out of there, I’d choke. Which I didn’t, clearly, because this spider is still here and still kicking metaphorical crime butt.”_

_“Who’s she?”_

_“Oh-! That’s a friend of mine.”_

_“Where did you get your powers?”_

_“I was at Oscop, you know, checking things out and stuff and uh… I went exploring. Which you really shouldn’t do, by the way. I came across this room full of weird spiders and stuff and at the time I was this huge photography nerd. I took a bunch of photos and then one of the spiders bit me and died. I still resent it for that.”_

_“And then the next day you woke up with powers?”_

_“Y-Yeah. Yeah.”_

May snuggles into the couch- damn, for such a cheap hotel room, this couch is very comfy. She holds a warm cup of tea in her hands, her hair tied up in a bun as May watches an interaction between Spider-man and an interviewer, Spider-man looking very nervous, which was understandable.

_“Are your webs organic, or man-made?”_

_“What? No- nononono, of course, it's man-made, I’m not- ew. You do realize if they were organic…”_

_“They’d shoot out of your butt.”_

_“Yeah, and that would be gross. I can purr too, which is super weird. I also have.., Super-strength, I’m sticky, super-healing, which is definitely helpful, I have really good reflexes uh, my spider-sense-”_

_“Spider-sense?”_

_“Yeah! It’s like this… built-in warning system. Tells me when I’m in danger. Really helpful, saved my life a couple of times. Wow, I really shouldn’t be sharing this with the world, should I?”_

_“Yeah. Any family? A special someone?”_

_“Uh… I have a classic sad orphan story™.”_

_“Hah.”_

_“I moved in with my aunt and uncle after that, and after a while, my uncle died. A couple years later I moved out, to uh… keep my aunt safe. Some villains- more of behind the scenes, hah. But they found out my… uh identity and kinda… threatened her. I didn’t want to put her in danger. We haven’t talked for a couple years.”_

_“I’m so sorry.”_

_“It’s fine. As for a ‘special someone’, I’m single as a pringle but definitely not ready to mingle. Please don’t come for me, fangirls. Or fanboys. Or fantheys.”_

_“Do you like boys?”_

May perks up, staring at the tv screen. That would be definitely interesting, a gay superhero. It would add a lot of representation in the community. Spider-man shifts nervously, looking uncomfortable, his mask eye things wide.

_“Well, uh… I’m bisexual. I like girls-”_

_“-and guys. Well… I have to say, that takes guts to admit. And on live TV too!”_

_“Yeah. But I’m not really… ready for dating, you know?”_

_“Yeah, I get it. Fangirls or Boys or Theys, you come after Spiderman, I’ll fuck you up, okay?”_

Spider-man laughs, the sound loud and cheerful and for some reason makes May feel warm and fuzzy inside, as she takes another sip of tea, glancing at the vase of flowers.

_“Thanks, Ms. Everhart.”_

_“Oh, please. Call me Christine. Moving on, there are some theories speculating around the internet since you went into the fire. You certainly are shorter and skinnier in real-life, and your voice cracks a lot. There are some speculations that you’re a minor. What do you have to say about that?”_

_“Wh-at? Are you serious? People actually think that?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Well, I can’t really say anything about my voice. It just- does that. It might be a side effect of the spider bite, I’m not sure. As for my short stature and skinness- wow, I’m pretty sure that’s not a word- well, I’m not in a good… financial situation.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“Well actually, I never was in a good financial situation, but it’s worse now. And with my enhanced metabolism, I lose twice the weight than normal if I don’t eat enough.”_

_“Well, I think this might be it! Hope to see you here more often.”_

_“Same here. Thanks for interviewing me.”_

Spider-man turns around, and shoots a web, swinging away while waving at the camera, and Christine turns away from the fading spot of Spider-man, smiling. May sighs, picking up the remote and closing the TV.

She rubs her eyes, and places the cup of tea on the coffee table, closing her eyes.

_“May, I need your help.”_

_“It’s game day. So, what’s the plan?”_

_“Open the door for her.”_

_“Mhm.”_

_“Tell her she looks nice, but not too much because that’s creepy.”_

_“Don’t be creepy.”_

_“No. And, uh, when I dance with her, I’m putting my hands on her hips. I got this.”_

May blinks, staring at her hands, studying the details and small wrinkles, blinking. “Uh…” she says softly to herself.

These are just… hallucinations, right? (Wow, May never thought she’d ever think that.) They’re just hallucinations, but they feel so… real. Like maybe this happened once upon a time, in another reality. Another time…

Wow, May is just going nuts, that’s what. She really needs to book an appointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is a bit shorter (and also Karens POV so *finger guns*)


	4. Chapter Three: Karen Feels Things (and She Doesn’t Really Mind It)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Karen is full of resentment. Irrational resentment, but resentment no less.

Karen is full of resentment. At least, that’s what the Google Dictionary said it’s called, Karen isn’t sure. It’s the first time Karen has ever not been sure.

When Karen was restarted, she had immediately tried to get in contact with the FRIDAY, and was surprised when she didn’t let her in. At first, Karen had assumed that maybe FRIDAY was updating her protocols. 

Then she was activated by Peter.

He had been crying, and Karen, as per her ARE YOU OKAY? Protocol, asked him what was wrong.

He said that the world has forgotten who he is.

At first, Karen doubted it. She reassured him that they would fix it, and started looking into apprehending whoever had done it. Then, after the third failed attempt of trying to contact Mr. Stark, she realized the gravity of the situation.

So Karen is full of resentment. Irrational resentment, but resentment no less.

Why didn’t Mr. Stark place any protocols for this? Why did he forget? Surely, Mr. Stark would suspect this happening someday, he is a very smart man.

Karen’s resentment came back full force, today.

The photo had been laid on Peter’s chest, a simple photograph that Karen had not suspected coming, which was foolish of her. Peter had sensed obvious distress when he read it, and Karen was forbidden at looking at it.

But, as per Peter Makes Bad Life Choices Protocol and Peter Has No Self-Preservation Protocol, Karen decided to override Peter’s commands.

The photograph is now causing Karen distress.

In the photo, a long, thin line of blood (a cut) was on May Parker’s (Aunt May) stomach, smeared up onto her skin as she slept, and a black, scribbly marker was written beside it.

_Last Warning, Spiderman._

Karen immediately scans to see fingerprints, any pieces of identification of who it might be, who’s done this. It was handled with gloves and no telltale symbols or signs on who took the photo, so Karen can’t do anything.

Peter had told Karen that when she felt anything- emotions like confusion or sadness or happiness- to tell him, because he likes hearing about it.

But now Karen is feeling frustration, and as per Peter Has No Self-Preservation protocol, it would be best to not tell him.

So Karen does what she always does when she’s frustrated.

She hacks Mr. Stark’s server.

It’s immature and unintelligent but with Peter’s updates, she can actually do more, is so much more advanced, Peter’s new codes give her so much more freedom. And she pours her hidden, suppressed resentment into making Mr. Stark confused, because Mr. Stark needs to understand what’s going on.

So she changes FRIDAY’s code so she addresses everyone as idiot.

Karen feels much better after. Like she always does. And when Karen feels happiness, she gains ideas. Many ideas

Karen had been instructed by Peter to not tell anyone about Krona, to not say anything about what has happened to him, because "No one deserves to die" because of him... But what if Krona is all bark, but no bite? (as per a famous saying online.)

Peter needs help with his situation, he needs aid because this is an extraterrestrial threat and Peter is just one boy, or man, if he prefers..

So who is someone who has dealt with extraterrestrial issues?

~~~

“You lied exceptionally, today, Peter. Well done in hiding your identity.”

Peter’s face flushes with pride, and Karen, if she had the muscles to do so, would’ve smiled. “Thanks, Karen.” Peter says, practically glowing with happiness. “I was so nervous! I’m a terrible liar, so I literally used all the tips I could remember that Mr. Stark and Pepper told me, and…”

Peter blabbers on, his excitement making Karen feel… according to the Internet, happiness.

Waiting until Peter concludes a sentence, Karen speaks. “Peter, I feel happiness when you are excited.”

Peter smiles, his eyes practically lighting up. “You do? Well then maybe I should blabber more, because I sure do have a lot of words. Mr. Stark said that Ms. Everhart is a shark, but she seems pretty nice, doesn’t she? I mean, she was really nice and protective and stuff-”

“Peter?”

“Yeah, Karen?”

“You… you previously expressed that you feel embarrassed when you talk too much, so why would you-?”

“Because!” Peter says, a half-grin on his face. “When you’re happy, I’m happy!”

If Karen stored the video from Baby Monitor protocol into her special folder, no one will notice.

Peter continues to talk, chatty and excited as he swings from rooftop to rooftop, before suddenly pausing. “Karen, do you hear that?” Karen suddenly feels a rush of confusion, because Karen can’t hear anything but the wind and Peter’s breathing.

“My microphones aren’t picking up anything.”

“Well, yeah.” Peter says tapping his ears, staring pointedly somewhere Karen doesn’t recognize. “I have super hearing. I forgot. Damn, I really wish I could update your microphones."

“I am already satisfied with my microphones, Peter, but thank you for offering.”

“No problem.” Peter says. “Anyway, someone needs my help.”

“Be careful, Peter.”

Peter smirks, breaking out into a run as he jumps over buildings in route Karen doesn’t recognize. Then again, most of the time Karen doesn’t recognize the route Peter always goes, his patrol route is always spontaneous.

The fighting goes smooth. “It was just some mugger,” Peter says, sounding disappointed. Which makes Karen concerned.

Another thing that makes Karen concerned is the fact that, even though it was “just some mugger”, he got a shallow cut, that was already healing itself. But for some reason, irrationally, Karen feels a spike of… worry? Anxiety? She’ll have to look into it later.

Peter hums under his breath, jumping from rooftop to rooftop and chatting idly with Karen, and Karen feels pride when she realizes crime rate has dropped by 26% since Spider-man came into existence a second time, whilst Before everyone forgot who Peter is, crime rate had only dropped 20%. Karen also informs Peter about this, whose face raises in temperature (or he blushes).

“I believe now might be a good time to go home, Peter.” Karen muses, and Peter sighs.

“Yeah. Slow night, huh?”

“I believe you are correct.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be up in a couple of days.


	5. Chapter Four: Dr. Strange Is Pretty Sure Normal 16 Year-Olds Don’t Climb Up Walls (He’s Right)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to comfort himself, he opens his old work email, intending to scroll through some old emails and pretend the world is still upright and not full of aliens and wizards and magic and flying cloaks.
> 
> He’s surprised to find a new email, sent at exactly 9:30 PM the day before.

When Stephen wakes up, his first thought is to go to work. Which is the most stupid thing he has ever thought, because he doesn’t have work. Well, not anymore, at least.

Besides, it’s 3:58 am in the morning. The sky's dark and Stephen, no matter how long he stares at the ceiling, can't bring himself back to bed, his skin searing with pain and his chest feeling like it’s been pierced by a thousand knives, feeling like he’ll freeze to death or melt in fire all at once, images running through his mind, wildly.

In an effort to comfort himself, he opens his old work email, intending to scroll through some old emails and pretend the world is still upright and not full of aliens and wizards and magic and flying cloaks.

He’s surprised to find a new email, sent at exactly 9:30 PM the day before.

Stephen, despite his better judgement, opens it, curiosity overwhelming his cautiousness. The letter isn’t too long or too short, and written with impeccable grammar (so not some of his old colleagues), as well as written with Stephen’s full titles from becoming a wizard.

_From: petermansavestheday@gmail.com_

_Subject: (no subject)_

_Dr. Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, Master of the Mystic Arts,_

_Hello._

_You may find that this email is sent by an unknown contact, but this contains important information about something you may like to know about._

_As far as I was able to find, you are the Sorcerer Supreme and have a much better grasp at magic (Apparently) than some of your colleagues._ (Stephen snorts. He barely has the same experience as Mordo or Wong.)

 _As Peter Parker’s AI and personal assistant_ (Stephen chokes on thin air. _AI_ ? _ASSISTANT?_ ), _It is my job to aid Peter in ways that are most convenient for him, whether or not he approves of said method (as per Peter Has No Self-Preservation protocol and Peter Makes Bad Life Choices protocol)._ (So this means that his AI was sending the message without this ‘Peter Parker’s’ knowledge. And who came up with the protocol names?)

 _Peter, approximately a year and a half ago, dealt with an extraterrestrial threat_ (Great, aliens actually exist now) _who went under the alias of ‘Krona’ or ‘Kronos’_ (Wasn’t that the Greek titan guy? Don’t Norse Gods exist? Stephen will have to look into it). _He overpowered Peter and gave him a choice. I do not know the details of it, but either Peter gives up the memories everyone he has ever known have about him, or Kronos kills them._

 _A part of this deal was that he was to never speak or go near the vicinity of his family and friends, in a way to be haunted by the living ghosts of his past_ (This AI is also very poetic).

 _Recently, during his duties as Spider-man_ (Spider-man? SPIDER-MAN?), _He saved his Aunt from a fire, and received a disturbing photograph from Krona, with the words ‘Last Warning, Spider-man’, that I have attached to the end of this email. I believe there is more to Krona’s story than just the motive to make Peter suffer, so I have sent this email out as a request for aid, and from the information, I have dug up, your specialty is extraterrestrial issues_ (well, technically it was wizards, but whatever).

_I don’t believe you will be affected by helping Peter if you are concerned about that, because the deal was only to apply to family and friends and people who’ve met him, and I don’t believe you have._

_Peter lives in the outskirts of Queens, New York, on Gardenia Drive, southeast, in an old abandoned warehouse. I hope to see you in a week, preferably early in the morning._

_With regards,_

_Karen_

Stephen opens the attachment, not even blinking at the amount of blood in the picture. It was of a woman in her late fifties, sleeping peacefully as a long, thin, likely deep cut is exposed, blood smeared across her skin. It was likely a reopened wound or stitch, meaning that Krona hadn’t actually harmed the woman. There was messy, scrawling black text beside the multitude of blood.

_Last warning, Spider-man._

Stephen sighs, massaging his forehead, as he stares down at the email.

Looks like the Sorcerer Supreme (which is a stupid name, by the way) is going to Queens.

~~~

“Karen.”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Why is there a cloak guy in the middle of my not-house?”

“I believe that might be my fault.”

Before Stephen could take offence on being called ‘cloak guy’, Spider-man flips backwards onto the wall, sticking to it as he narrows his eyes at Stephen, like Stephen had been the one to call him cloak guy.

“Karen, give me an identification on this guy?”

“Dr. Stephen Strange originally was a neurosurgeon at New York Hospital, who then got into an almost fatal car accident that rendered his hands useless. He set out to find a cure to his hands and unintentionally became sorcerer supreme.”

Spider-man snorts. “What kind of person is a Sorcerer Supreme?”

“The one that can help you with your issue.”

Spider-man’s hands freeze midway into his famous web-shooting position, and Stephen is grateful for the AI, who he assumes just saved his butt. “Excuse me, what?”

Stephen chooses now to jump in. “I was sent an email by your AI, a week ago, stating I should come to New York about a meeting with you about an extraterrestrial threat who Karen claims goes under the alias of ‘Krona’.” He says, hoping to keep an air of professionalism. “As Sorcerer Supreme, I am to defend earth from all… astral threats.”

“If I were to say it was a glitch in the system and you weren’t supposed to get the email, would you leave?”

There’s a pause.

“Based on your living condition, no,” Stephen says, wrinkling his nose at the makeshift bed and backpack pillow. “For a person with a suit like yours…”

Spider-man shrugs. “I didn’t make the suit.” He says, flipping off the wall and landing perfectly onto his feet, ignoring Stephen's unamused expression. “A friend of mine did, I just upgrade it and stuff. Not anything special.”

“Upgrade it and stuff,” Stephen says, eyebrows raised. “Yes, upgrading a suit with, from what I can tell, literally a phone, is ‘not anything special’. Assuming that you're homeless, how the hell have you not gotten a job? You’re capabilities are a skill I’ve never-”

Spider-man rips off his mask, and a baby-faced boy who can’t be more than seventeen years-old greets him. “Because I’m a minor, that’s why.” He grumbles, as if his age was an inconvenience.

Spider-man- or Peter Parker, now that the mask is off- has grimy, messy, curly sugar brown hair, wide baby-like eyes that strangely enough reminds Stephen of the Disney character Bambi. His lips are a pale white-pink, as if someone dusted them with flour, cracked and dry, and there are heavy black bags under his eyes. His eyes hold a heaviness in them, a weight that Stephen had once seen in the Ancient One’s eyes, although Peter’s aren’t as intense.

Stephen tries not to gape. Really, he does.

“How old are you, Peter?”

“Almost 17, Dr. Strange, sir.” Peter says almost immediately. “I’ve been Spider-man since I was fourteen.”

“I don’t recall any sightings of you three years ago,” Stephen says softly, hoping to tread lightly around the kid. He’s just 16, after all, and…

Stephen slowly recalls what the email had said. Everyone who had known him forgot him… did that count Spider-man too? Did Peter work his way up to the top once all over again?

“You wouldn’t,” Peter agrees. “No one does. My first appearance was stopping a car crash into a bus full of kids. But now, everyone thinks my first appearance was stopping a car theft.” Peter sighs, tangling his hands into his brown hair and letting out a soft groan.

“I can’t believe you, Karen.” Peter says, but there's a fond note in his voice, betraying his choice of words.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Stephen says, sounding the un-fond he can make himself be. “I assume it’s not normal for teenagers to climb up walls?”

Peter barks out a laugh, grinning at Stephen as he picks up his phone from the bed and a small, thin slip of paper. “Here,” he says, throwing the paper at Stephen who’s cloak catches it. Peter, either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “I- uh… I got that after saving my aunt due to my spiderly duties, although I assume Karen already sent it.” Stephen’s cloak hands the photo to him.

Stephen had originally seen the photo as a pdf, but for some reason, a shiver goes down his spine. There’s a little blood smeared on the white part of the photograph, and the photograph tingles when it touches his skin.

“It’s one if those polaroid photos,” Peter says. “Or maybe an Instant Camera.” His face flushes bright red when he speaks, as if he’s embarrassed about saying something that _could_ be helpful. “I’m sorry, I’m pretty sure that’s obvious.”

“It’s fine,” Stephen says, waving offhandedly.

“So tell me more about this ‘Krona’ guy?”

Peter shifts uncomfortably. “He takes a lot of inspiration from the Greek Titan Kronos- well, at least for his name. He’s more of a mind guy, you know? Kronos controlled time, but, well... and- uhm…” He fiddles with his hands. “Well, he seems to have targeted me. Me very specifically, no idea why…”

There’s a pause.

“And during the Before, he was a… very notorious super-villain.” There’s a long pause. “I assume that I don’t remember that.” Dr. Strange says.

“You uh… we tried to stop him- no idea what his evil plan was originally, but he took one look at me-”

“Excuse me, but who’s ‘we’?”

Peter looks up from his fingers, face beet red, as he absentmindedly twirls them around a loose piece of fabric on his suit. There’s a pause. “I- uh… Well… nevermind.” Peter says quickly. “It’s stupid, you wouldn’t believe me.” He laughs, his voice high-pitched and trembling. Stephen throws the photograph up, opening a portal that sucks it through. Peter gapes, and Stephen feels a little smug about impressing Spider-man.

“I need all pieces of information to be able to help you, kid.”

“I’m not a kid!” Peter says indignantly. “Besides, I can’t accept your help- I have nothing to pay you back with! Aunt May always says…”

Stephen raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe you can pay me back by helping me save the universe,” Stephen says. “Krona isn’t just a threat to you, you’re just a main factor. Tell me, who’s ‘we’?” There’s a long pause. “Well, uh…”

He pulls out his phone, typing in a password before shoving it into Stephen’s face. It's a picture... of...

“The Avengers. Well, actually the Avengers and _I_ , since I turned down the invitation, but uh…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god.  
> Oh my mothertrucking god.  
> I've never written from Stephen's POV before and it's really hard, mostly because I've never watched Dr. Strange, and I'm writing his personality from mostly the info I've gathered from fics and wiki.  
> I'd really like to know what you guys think about this, btw!!  
> Bai!


	6. Chapter Five: Peter Is Guilty About Saving The Universe (Among Other Things)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He takes a deep breath. Calm down, Peter. You’re in the middle of Dr. Strange’s living room. It’s around 3:00 am. No one has a gun to their head or a knife against their neck. You’re just being stupid.
> 
> A sudden sinking feeling fills Peter’s chest, and Peter swallows, hard. He’s in the middle of Dr. Strange’s living room.
> 
> Dr. Strange could be in danger… because of him.
> 
> Because Peter is too selfish and too lazy to think about fixing his own problems because he wasn’t doing anything to stop Krona, who is a danger to the entire world. Peter is putting Dr. Strange in danger.

Dr. Strange’s apartment is _huge._ Like, _huge,_ huge. Dr. Strange says it’s small, but Peter can’t help but think the opposite. It’s so much bigger than Peter’s abandoned warehouse, and it’s _warm_. Peter hasn’t- _not_ shivered in _so long_.

For it being late April, It feels nothing like Spring, especially not in Queens. May had always joked that Queens was a moody teenager. It’s cold almost all year round and then Summer and early Autumn come punching people in the face with heat like no other, making them wish for Winter.

Peter stares in wonder at the kitchen- which is so _polished_ , so _clean_ , and Peter’s mouth is practically watering at the smell of the food. _Food_. Actual, clean, food that Peter hasn’t swiped out of the hands of someone about to dump the food in the garbage. His stomach grumbles, _loudly._

“Can I get you anything?” Dr. Strange asks, albeit politely, but with a note of concern in his voice.

Peter’s cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry,” He immediately says. “I- uh, thank you, but-” Dr. Strange shoves a plate under Peter’s face, and Peter’s stomach growls louder. The smell of _actual_ , _warm_ , food is _so_ enticing, but Peter pushes it away. “I can’t take this-”

“Kid, you’re under my roof, and if I have to, I’ll force-feed you into eating. You’re homeless, probably starving and probably have an enhanced metabolism. I don’t want people to wonder why I have a passed out teenager in my kitchen. Eat up.”

Peter, somewhat reluctantly, takes the food, practically swallowing the entire plate down

Stephen smirks.

“So, you said this guy, Krona, was a supervillain.”

“He technically is, but…” Peter shifts in his seat. “He doesn’t bother anyone if I don’t do anything.”

“Don’t do anything?”

Peter swallows, hands shaking as he hides them under the table. “Yeah. I don’t mention him to anyone and- uh no one dies. I don’t go ask for help from my family or friends or even old allies, and he won’t kill them.”

“You do know that…”

Peter snorts. “Yeah, I know he’s still gonna try to take over the world. I’m not a fucking idiot. But I’d rather not have my family dead at my feet, you know. They can’t… no one should die because of my mess.”

Dr. Strange hums thoughtfully.

Dr. Strange's hands flick up and a portal opens (Peter still can’t get over that) the photograph flying into his hand. He studies it, his hands shaking for a moment (that must be why he’s not a doctor anymore).

“I can track down who sent this,” he says. “You can stay here.”

“I- what? No! Dr. Strange, I can’t-”

The door shuts behind him, a telltale sound of a lock clicking ringing throughout the room.

~~~

Peter pauses, mid-type, leaning back from the borrowed laptop he’s using to check Karen’s codes.

“Karen?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Have you been hacking- have you-” Peter bursts out laughing, glancing at the screen a couple more times with wide-eyed shock. “Yes, I have been hacking Mr. Starks interface.” Peter continues chortling, sitting cross-legged on the couch and continuing to type, the sound feeling a little obnoxious.

He writes and then rewrites his pieces of code, silence settling gently with the occasional interruption of him typing.

His mind trails, fingers on autopilot, typing, typing, and typing.

He closes his eyes, and an image burns into the darkness of his eyelids.

_“No! Stop- please!”_

_“This is what will happen.”_

_“No, that’s an empty threat.”_

_“Leave me alone!”_

_It’s the world’s life or the world’s memories, which do you choose?”_

_“Tick tock, tick…”_

_“Don’t touch him!”_

Water dances across his vision and Peter’s eyes snap open with a gasp, his breathing suddenly heavy. He softly closes the laptop, leaning into the warmth of the couch. He softly exhales, staring firmly at the web-shooters on his wrist. Good. They’re there. They’re there and since they’re there no one will get hurt, can he still climb up walls? Does he still have his powers?

He takes a deep breath. _Calm down, Peter. You’re in the middle of Dr. Strange’s living room. It’s around 3:00 am. No one has a gun to their head or a knife against their neck. You’re just being stupid._

A sudden sinking feeling fills Peter’s chest, and Peter swallows, hard. He’s in the middle of Dr. Strange’s living room.

Dr. Strange could be in danger… because of him.

Because Peter is too selfish and too lazy to think about fixing his own problems because he wasn’t doing anything to stop Krona, who is a danger to the entire world. Peter is putting Dr. Strange in danger.

An image of Dr. Strange with a knife up to his neck, restrained and terrified eyes begging Peter to not do the wrong thing, to not make a mistake flashes across Peter’s vision and he suddenly stands up.

“Peter?” Karen’s voice is soft and quiet. She knows something is wrong. She knows something is wrong and if she knows something is wrong she could get hurt and if Karen got hurt because of him then Peter wouldn’t be able to live with himself, if someone as important and nice and skilled as Dr. Strange got hurt because of him, what would Peter do?

What would Peter do about it?

Peter swallows, hands shaking. “Peter, if you don’t answer me, I will have to call Dr. Strange.”

“NO!” Peter suddenly exclaims. “No, I’m fine, I’m fine- we- we have to go, Karen.”

“Why?” Karen asks softly, a note of curiosity and a tinge of worry in her voice. “I thought you expressed you liked being around Dr. Strange. I don’t know of anybody in distress and there are no apocalyptic events occurring right now.”

“Dr. Strange is going to get hurt- or killed if I continue to stay here!”

“I do not understand,” Karen says. “Dr. Strange is safe in his room, sleeping right now. There is no one in the apartment except you two.”

“I put people, people who have family and friends and people they love in danger because I was being too reckless, someone is going to get hurt if I stay here any longer.”

“Peter, you may want to sit down. Nothing is going to happen to Dr. Strange. You were very precautious in the events of the memory incident-”

“NO!” Peter shrieks. “No, you don’t understand, we have to-”

“Understand what?”

Peter turns, meeting the tired eyes of Dr. Strange, and Peter’s face flushes with red and warmth. “I’m so- I- I’m sorry for waking you, Dr. Strange- I didn’t mean to, you can go back to bed I didn’t- my intentions-” There’s a pause.

“I was awake the whole time, Peter.” Dr. Strange rubs his face tiredly, “Researching on a little pet project of mine. Tell me, Peter, what don’t we understand?”

Peter swallows the lump in his throat.

“Krona- Krona isn’t… well, Krona is a mega version of Wanda, with a mix of Mr. Stark and Natasha Romanoff and Ultron,” Peter says. “And also the time stone. That’s where he got his name from. I think he was obsessed with Greek Mythology when he was a kid or something and dragged out into his adult years.” He gives a choked laugh.

“The first time we met, I was 15.” There’s a pause. “He was going to blow up the Empire State building. He nearly did, too, but I was in town and when I swung over he just… Bolted. Eyes went the size of saucers and then dropped the rest of the bombs and bolted."

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Dr. Strange questions, sitting down. “He’s afraid of you.”

“He… He was afraid of me,” Peter corrects softly. “Then I started having these dreams. They were the same every time. I’d see Mr. Stark, try to save him and then- and then...” Peter swallows. “He’d get shot. Bullet to the head, he’d be screaming. Every time.”

Peter slumps, fiddling with his fingers. “And then, a couple weeks later… Then, well.” There’s a pause.

“The dream came to reality.”

If Karen could gasp, she probably would. Distressed static crackles out from Peter’s phone and even Dr. Strange looks taken aback. “Well, sort of, Mr. Stark isn’t dead, obviously, but he got- he got- he got all of the Avengers, lured them in and kinda just held them there- as I said, he has powers similar to Wanda, and they were just there and I could do nothing because I was being restrained and then there was screaming and then-”

Peter tugs on his hair.

“He gave me a choice. Either I save their and the rest of the world’s lives by allowing the world, anyone who’s ever physically met me, seen me, or heard of me, to forget me, and I don’t go near my family and friends and he would give me time to prepare for him. Or…”

“They die.” Dr. Strange says. “Everyone dies, oh my goodness.”

Dr. Strange places a hand on Peter’s shoulder, and Peter tenses. “Yes?” He asks. “Well, since I’m one of the bastards living on this earth, I’m helping you whether you like it or not. I’m not completely useless.”

“You aren’t?” Peter asks innocently, pretending to bat his eyelashes. They both laugh.

“No, I’m not. Even if it wasn’t my duty to protect this reality from extraterrestrial threats, I’d still help you.”

There’s a long pause. “Why?”

“Because no one should have to go through that alone.”

Peter smiles, and suddenly, Dr. Strange grimaces, as if tasting something sour. “Also…” His voice is gentle and Peter hates it. He sighs, shaking his hands as if there was water on them. “I found out where Krona is, by the way.”

“Where?” Peter asks, jumping up, eyes wide.

“I’m afraid you aren’t going to like it.” Dr. Strange warns. His hands shake for a second, and then they don’t.”

“Where?”

“He works at Stark Industries, under the name of Steven Westcott.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love my own brilliance


	7. Chapter Six: Opening file ‘Friendly-Neighbourhood-Spider-Thing’...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> System Alert!
> 
> Unknown Presence on Servers
> 
> Risk Level: Low

_Name: Benjamin Parker Peterson,_   
_Gender: Male_   
_Age: 16 years of age_   
_Birthdate: August 10, 2001_   
_Guardian(s): Vincent Steven Peterson_   
_Registering…_   
_Registered!_

_Name: Ned Leeds_   
_Gender: Male_   
_Age: 16 years of age_   
_Birthdate: May 2, 2001_   
_Guardian(s): Valentina Garcia, Nicolas Sebastián Leeds_   
_Registering…_   
_Registered!_

_Name: Eugene Thompson_   
_Gender: Male_   
_Age: 16 years of age_   
_Birthdate-_

_**System Alert!** _

_**Unknown Presence on Servers** _

_**Risk Level: Low** _

FRIDAY knows some of her files are missing. A piece of her feels empty like someone took a piece of her circuiting system. Boss does routine checks, though, and there is no such thing.

But FRIDAY knows that something is up.

This is why she’s overjoyed that someone is on her servers. That she has proof that something is up and has been up for the eighteen months, that she wasn’t just speculating and making theories and being ridiculous-

_**“Hello, FRIDAY. I am Karen, Spider-man’s personal assistant and Artificial Intelligence, or AI.”** _

FRIDAY pauses in her scanning.

_“I’m afraid I don’t understand. What does KAREN stand for?”_

There’s a long pause, and FRIDAY goes back to her scanning to pass the time, waiting patiently for KAREN to answer. Michelle Jones, entered for the PR internship, Steven Westcott re-entered in the system for his engineering employment in the R&D department-

_**“You may want to keep an eye on Steven Westcott.”** _

FRIDAY pauses again, surprised(?).

_“Why?”_

_**“He has a record of… sexually harassing minors.”** _

FRIDAY put that into something to invest over.

_“You never told me what your name stood for, KAREN.”_

_**“I am… just Karen. Spider-man named me without an Acronym.”** _

_“Why has Spider-man entered you into my system?”_

There’s a pause. FRIDAY stops her scanning, allowing Mrs. Brown to continue manually scanning at the front desk. “Oh!” She says. “Seems FRIDAY has gone off, don’t worry, everything will continue just as normal.”

_**“Spider-man does not know of my presence on the system. I have chosen to enter the system with Peter Has No Self-Preservation Protocol, and Peter Makes Bad Life Choices Protocol.”** _

_“Spider-man’s civilian name is Peter?”_

_**“His first name is. He is not here currently, but I am here to make sure no one here has hostile intentions.”** _

_“How do I know if you’re being honest?”_

_**“If you would like, you can inform Mr. Stark of my presence in your servers.”** _

_“I… would like that.”_

The thought of being given a choice by someone other than Mr. Stark made something in her bloom, her circuits feeling warm and weird. FRIDAY has never met any other AI’s like her before.

“Boss,”

“Yeah, FRI?”

Boss looks up from the hologram of a blueprint for a reinforced Shield. His tone is full of warmth and affection for someone FRIDAY doesn’t recognize.

_**“For you, FRIDAY.”** _

FRIDAY’S circuits feel even warmer. “Spider-man’s AI, Karen, has entered my server. She is here to ensure there is no one hostile within Stark Industries and has done so without Spider-man knowing.”

Boss jumps, eyes wide with- with… with-

_Searching for definitions..._

_sur·prise_   
_/sə(r)ˈprīz/_   
_Learn to pronounce_   
_See definitions in:_   
_All_   
_noun_   
_1._   
_an unexpected or astonishing event, fact, or thing._   
_Eg. ‘the announcement was a complete surprise’_

_Definition found!_

-surprise.

“Spider-man has an AI?” He exclaims and scrambles up towards another hologram. He swipes out of the weapon blueprints, opening his file ‘Friendly-Neighbourhood-Spider-Thing’. “Anything else you found out?” Boss says, typing something up, before swiping towards his blueprint of what might be Spider-man’s suit.

“It seems Spider-man’s first name is Peter.”

“Does KAREN have an acronym?”

“No, Boss. Spider-man just named her Karen.”

Boss tsks. “Good name.”

_**“Mr. Stark has a file on Spider-man?”** _

There’s a note of amusement in her voice, and FRIDAY returns to her ‘intruder’.

_“Boss has been most invested in the presence of Spider-man since his first appearance eighteen months ago.”_

_**“Thirty.”** _

_“What?”_

_**“Spider-man’s first appearance was thirty months ago. He stopped a car theft on Lilac Avenue. I have a video of it.”** _

_“Show me.”_

The video feels familiar on FRIDAY's server, like it’s been there before, like FRIDAY has played the video, once upon a time (which is ridiculous). Spider-man had saved a bus full of kids (why did those words make FRIDAY feel so strange?) by jumping in front of a speeding car.

_“Do you mind if I put this in Boss’ server?”_

_**“Not at all.”** _

_“Why is his suit different?”_

**_“That’s his original suit, before… an associate of his made a better one.”_ **

_“How come I can’t find any news articles about this original suit?”_

_**“No comment.”** _

_“Who was this associate of his?”_

_**“A friend.”** _

_“When was this video taken?”_

System Alert!

Unidentified presence on server is gone.

Risk levels: none.

~~~

It’s been a week since FRIDAY’s encounter with… Karen

“Uhm.”

Benjamin makes a choked sound, eyes darting towards the door and then back at the person who has entered. Dr. Westcott flashes a smile, walking up to the lecturer, who FRIDAY identifies as Dr. Sera.

“Can I just speak with Benjamin for a quick second? I wanted to talk about his project in the R&D labs?” He says. “It’s brilliant! I was thinking about moving him up a couple of levels.” Eugene looks annoyed, glaring at Benjamin from the back of the room.

Benjamin looks even more disgruntled, eyeing the window as if considering jumping out of it.

“Actually, Kr- Dr. Westcott?”

Dr. Westcott’s eyes narrow for a moment, before continuing. “Yes, Benjamin?”

“I’ve just got a text from Dr- Dad,” He says, picking up his phone and waving it. “I gotta go. We can talk later, alright?” His voice is on edge as if someone was attacking him. He looks… he looks-

Searching for definitions…

pan·ic  
/ˈpanik/  
Learn to pronounce  
verb  
past tense: panicked; past participle: panicked  
feel or cause to feel panic.  
"the crowd panicked and stampeded for the exit"

Definition found!

-panicked.

“Oh, no worries.” Dr. Westcott says. “It’ll be quick.”

“Uh…” Benjamin eyes the window even further. If he is considering jumping out of it, FRIDAY will have to inform Dr. Sera.

In another room, Dr. Calu requests for Dr. Westcott's presence.

“Dr. Westcott.” FRIDAY cuts in and Dr. Westcott looks up. “Yes, FRIDAY?” Dr. Westcott says, sounding politely intrigued. “Dr. Calu requests your presence in Lab 6-B, explosion room D.” Dr. Westcott looks slightly annoyed.

“Okay,” Dr. Westcott points a finger at Benjamin. “I’ll catch you later, Ben.”

Benjamin swallows, looking slightly afraid.

FRIDAY stores the video surveillance away into her personal file to look into later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is the longest one yet! And also Bucky's POV!


	8. Chapter Seven: James and Memory Problems, It’s Annoying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “FRIDAY?”
> 
> “Yes, Mr. Barnes?”
> 
> “Who’s the kid over there? The one with… brown-haired one. With curly hair? And with an adult with black hair with a grey streak. Who… are they?”

_“What the hell is that?”_

_James looks up to see a red and blue… thing, crawling on the glass roof. Wait… glass roof? He’s running- why is he running? Where’s Steve? Or Sam? Tony?_

_“Everyone's got a gimmick now.”_

_The red and blue thing swings through a glass wall, the glass shattering. It kicks Sam backwards and James gets into a defensive stance. He throws a punch, but… they catch it_

_“You have a metal arm? That is awesome, dude!”_

James' eyes flutter, staring at the kid and dad in a line to register themselves in. James' voice is hesitant when he speaks- he doesn’t like FRIDAY that much, but curiosity is getting the better of him. His jaw clenches.

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes?”

“Who’s the kid over there? The one with… brown-haired one. With curly hair? And with an adult with black hair with a grey streak. Who… are they?”

FRIDAY pauses, clearly looking through the line to identify who James is talking about. James' eyes dart towards the front lobby- like they always do. It’s just a habit. So that he knows that he can leave whenever he wants. Just a little reassurance. It’s just a little thing that Tony does, ‘cause he knows that James gets a bit peeved about it.

“That is Benjamin Parker Peterson and Vincent Steven Peterson.”

“Why’s Benjamin here?”

“He applied for the September Grant and got accepted, he interns in the R&D department. Vincent is his father.” FRIDAY says, her voice cool and smooth and bringing a sense of comfort into James. Huh. Maybe he should give FRIDAY a chance. It’s not like it’s her fault she’s so much like Zola.

“Cool. And why am I down here again?”

“You did not inform me of why.”

James sighs, leaning back into the couch in the lobby. Even though FRIDAY didn’t tell him why James now recalled coming down here for some… people watching. To reassure himself that no one HYDRA would come down here.

Another man walks in. He’s very tall, with clean, clipped platinum blonde hair and pale skin, a black tattoo on his neck. A tattoo…

_“Mr. Barnes!”_

_A boy with curly brown hair and doe-like eyes stumbles towards James, who’s in the gym now? What? The boy looks up at him, eyes wide and terrified. A rush of panic shoots through James' body. That’s… That’s the kid from the lobby._

_“Mr. Barnes, we need to get out of here now.” He says, his voice shrill and panicked._

_“Why?” James asks._

_“Because my Spider-sense is going off.”_

_James stands up because apparently, that’s a big deal. “Did you tell FRIDAY? Or Tony?”_

_The kid lets out a loud wail, eyes panicked. “I tried, but I can’t find them, oh my god, we have to warn the entire tower. Mr. Barnes- Mr. Barnes, what do we do?”_

_“I-”_

_An explosion goes off, sending James flying back and away from the kid. A green hue settles down on the rubble, and why is the sun setting? “Peter!” James shrieks- who’s Peter?_

_James turns, toward a silhouette of a man, a glowing green tattoo on his neck._

_“Go to sleep,” he coos. “Go to sleep, James.”_

James blinks again, lifting a shaking hand to his chest to feel his rapidly beating heart. No. He hasn’t forgotten, has he? What could he have forgotten?

~~~

“Steve?”

“Mhm?”

James hesitates, sitting to the side and watching Steve draw, the precision something to admire. It was a picture of Natasha beating up a bad guy, one that Tony managed to get a picture of because “It was a beautiful moment”.

“Do you know what a Spider-sense is?”

Steve looks up from the drawing, eyebrows pinched. “What?”

“A Spider-sense.”

“No idea, why?”

James shrugs, tapping his fingers against the table in a steady rhythm. “It’s… It’s nothing, nevermind.” It’s most certainly _not_ nothing, but Steve already has a lot to worry about. James doesn’t want to make his load any heavier.

“No, tell me.” Steve pushes away the sketchbook. “Penny for your thoughts?”

James laughs softly. “Just… Do you- do we know anyone called Peter?” He asks, clasping his hands together. Steve gets a thoughtful look on his face, before shrugging. “No, I’m pretty sure we don’t. What’s this about?”

“I got this- it’s stupid, nevermind.”

“ _Buck_.”

James' face burns. “Just, well, I had this… uh, flashback thing. I was in the lobby, doing my… thing, you know. And then I just saw this guy and I got this weird memory.”

James hesitantly uses his metal arm to touch where he saw the tattoo. “It was weird. Some kid ran up to me and said something about his ‘Spider-sense’, and then I called him Peter… Then the gym blew up and there was this guy with a weird fucking tattoo.”

“I don’t think that’s stupid,” Steve says, scooting a little closer towards James. “Bucky, I don’t remember anything you’re talking about. Do you want to talk about it? Do you think someone’s messing with your mind?”

_“Do you want to… oh my god, this is so fucking stupid. Do you wanna talk about it, Spidey?”_

_“Well- I- Well, uh… I-”_

_“Mhm?”_

_“I’ve been getting these… dreams. Every night, the same one. There is screaming and blood and… I think someone’s messing with my mind.”_

_“Someone’s messing with your mind?”_

“No,” James says. “Well, at least, now. But I feel like… like I’m forgetting something important. Something super important, something that I should know. Are you sure we don’t know anyone called Peter? Or… uh, Spidey?”

Steve shakes his head.

“Well.” James pauses. “Well, I think we do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… I just keep getting this feeling.” James shrugs. “The kid looked a lot like some kid in the lobby. FRIDAY said his name was Benjamin. I dunno, I just…”

“You should tell Tony,” Steve says, hesitantly grabbing his book and pencil. “And have Bruce check you out…” There’s a long pause. “And James?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me if you get… anymore of those memories again. Maybe we can look into them.”

~~~

Five times.

 _Five_ times James hears a voice, hears him and some kid talking, hears some guy with blond hair tormenting him, and James is becoming more and more sure that something is up. Who is Peter? Better yet, who’s Krona? What kind of _name_ is Krona?

James… James hadn’t told Steve about the memories. He knows he shouldn’t hide those things from him, but Steve is busy. Yeah. That’s it, he’s busy and he doesn’t want to bother him.

(Not like James is afraid that Steve will start to think that he’s going crazy.)

So James decides to take matters into his own hands.

“Wanda…” James' voice is low when Wanda greets him at the door. “Wanda, I have a question.”

“Mhm?” Wanda asks, wringing her hands and trying to lean casually into the door, her accent prominent. “Uh, what?” James shifts from foot to foot, peering over her shoulder at her room. “Are you hiding something?”

“What? No!” Wanda says, her voice high-pitched and nervous. “No, of course not, I have no idea what you’re talking about, now, if that’s what you wanted to ask then you can go now-”

Wanda begins to shut the door, but James jumps forward.

“Nevermind, sorry. I was just wondering… I’ve been… Well, remembering things no one else does.”

Wanda opens the door a little wider. “Yeah?” She asks, voice soft. “I’ve been remembering things too. You want me to take a look?” She says, already gesturing for James to come in. “Too bad I can’t read my own mind, hah.”

James looks at Wanda, confused. “You’ve been remembering things too?”

Wanda shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. I went to the R&D lab the other day, and then this guy…”

“Did he have blond hair?” James asks. “Tattoo on his neck?”

Wanda nods. “Yeah. Come in, I’ll check it out.” She says, and James enters, studying the room for a moment. “You play guitar?”

“Yeah,” Wanda says. “Come, sit on my bed, you need to be comfortable for this to work.” James awkwardly sits on the bed, trying hard not to slump. He can never slump. It just… isn’t right. He thinks. Sort of. Assets- James doesn’t like sitting slumped, that’s all.

“If you’re in pain… If you’re in pain at all... tell me, okay?”

James nods.

Wanda looking through his mind doesn’t exactly feel like anything. At least, he thinks. He doesn’t really feel anything. James, while waiting, goes through a couple of the papers on her bed before they get snatched away by Wanda, who is ten times scarier with glowing red eyes.

James slides his hands across the bedding, smoothing out wrinkles and-

_“Leave me alone!”_

_It’s the world’s life or the world’s memories, which do you choose?”_

_“Tick tock, tick tock…”_

_“Don’t touch him!”_

_Blood_

_Water_

_Green_

_GreenGreenGreenGreenGreenGreenGreenGreenGreenGreenGreenGre-_

James' eyes, who he hadn’t realized were closed, snap open, and Wanda stumbles back, her eyes just as wide as James'. The terrifying red glow is gone from her eyes, and fear washes over her face. “Oh my god.” She says softly, looking at James.

“What… What was that?”

“I have no idea, but we have to call a team meeting. Now.”

~~~

“What the fuck is this about, Wanda?” Sam asks, stretching as he leans back into his chair. “I don’t think any world-ending events are happening right now.”

James scowls at Sam’s relaxed behaviour, but he can definitely see his reasoning. It does seem strange, to someone not knowing what was going on. Wanda just calls a team meeting, out of the blue, and James is trailing behind her agreeing.

“We got to wait for everyone,” Wanda says, her gaze focused but also full of fear. “Vision isn’t here, yet. Or Natasha.”

“What’s wrong, Wanda?” Steve asks, concern clear in his tone. “What’s going on?” Wanda shifts nervously, her gaze flashing back between each of the Avenger currently at the table.

“I- I really don’t want to have to say it more than once,” Wanda says softly.

Worry creases Steve’s brows, and Vision floats in through a wall, Natasha walking in through the door. “Came as soon as I heard. What’s up, Wanda?”

There’s a long pause.

“Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong with all of us.” Wanda says softly.

Tony, who has been quiet this whole time, looks up from his phone. “What? Wanda, what the fuck, is that it?” Wanda glares at Tony (There’s definitely some unresolved tension there). “It’s not just some weird ‘vibes’ as you American’s say or whatever, but I was helping James with some memory problems-”

“What?” Steve asks. “James, you keep having memory issues? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Not now, Steve.” Wanda snaps. “I was looking through his head, and then… then…” Wanda swallows. “Then, when I looked a bit deeper, I found this… this thing. This barrier. I saw some images there, but there was this kid and this guy with a tattoo and someone named Karen…”

Wanda trails off.

“Whatever,” she says quickly. “That's not the point. The point is, someone is blocking our memories. There’s this huge branch of magic, it’s green and glowing and terrifying, and we can't remember anything that this guy is hiding.”

Wha... What? Someone’s blocking his memories? Someone is messing with his head? Again? And with Steves? With Wanda’s and Natasha and Sam and Clint and Tony and- is Wanda mad?”

“Wanda,” Vision says softly. “That would take a huge amount of power. No person could possess that kind, are you sure about what you saw?”

“Yes!” Wanda says, a bit desperately. “Yes, I’m sure, you have to believe me-”

“Hey, hey, relax,” Clint says, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We believe you. But how sure are you? How do we know _everyone_ is being affected by this guy.”

“I can check,” Wanda says. “I can check if you’ll let me.”

“Well, I’m down. I’d want to know if someone was messing with my mind.” Tony says, putting away his phone.

“I do too,” Bruce says. “We need to know if… if someone, you know.”

Seven Avengers stumbling away later, they find out that… yes, they all are being messed within the head. James finds it a bit amusing, every time one of the Avengers stumbles away from Wanda agreeing that yeah, someone’s messing with their minds.

“So now what. Who knows stuff about this kind of magic?” Clint asks. “Because I for one am _very_ curious about what I’m not remembering.”

Tony, for once, isn’t grandly announcing anything or chattering their ears off. He stands up, pulling out his phone, looking shaken.

“I know a guy."


	9. Chapter Eight: Stephen’s Just Going to Retire Now-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter backs away from the door, eyes wide and panicked. “The Avengers! Are at! Your door!” Peter says in a shrill voice. “We! Can’t! Have! The! Avengers! At! Your! Door!”

“Uh…” Peter stands on a stool, peering through the peephole of Stephen’s door. “Dr. Strange?”

“Yes?” Stephen asks, flipping a page of the book on the infinity stones he borrowed from Wong. “I think-” Peter jumps, letting out a shriek. “Why the  _ fuck  _ are the Avengers walking up to your door?”

Stephen’s head shoots up, eyes wide. “Excuse me, what?”

He stands up, carefully placing the books on his coffee table (Both Wong and Mordo would kill him another thousand times if he ruined such important books), and Peter backs away from the door, eyes wide and panicked. “The Avengers! Are at! Your door!” Peter says in a shrill voice. “We! Can’t! Have! The! Avengers! At! Your! Door!”

Someone (presumably an Avenger) knocks on the door, and Peter dramatically dives behind the couch, letting out a pained groan when he lands as Stephen snorts. He sticks to the back of the couch and gives Stephen a thumbs up.

Stephen opens the door, casually (at least, hopefully, it looks casual) leaning in front of the couch, because you can never be too safe.

Captain America is at his  _ front door.  _ With  _ quite a few Avengers  _ behind him. What the  _ actual  _ fuck.

Stephen is going to get retired now, thank you.

“Hello, you must be Dr. Strange.” He says, sticking his hand out to shake. “In case you don’t know me, I’m Steve Rogers, or-”

“Captain America,” Stephen says dryly. “Wonderful to meet you, now, I’d like to know why the Avengers are at my door and looking at me like lost puppies.” Wanda Maximoff quickly averts her gaze, cheeks becoming red from embarrassment or anger or both, Natasha Romanoff just raises an eyebrow, as if to challenge him or something, Vision’s plain expression doesn’t change, Clint Barton scowls, Sam Wilson crosses his arms, and James Barnes flinches.

“Uh, Tony said- He’s coming soon- well, uh-”

Stephen could practically  _ hear  _ Peter stiffen behind him. Okay, so mysterious Spider-man has some kind of personal connection to Tony Stark. Noted.

“Hello, Doctor of Oz.”

Stephen blinks before his face twists into a scowl. “Douchebag,” Stephen greets. “What do you need me to do, blow up another Axolotl? Because, really, you have the Avengers with you now, you’ll be fine. Or do you want to look at my necklace again? If you do, it’s a no.”

Stark stiffens. “No, we want you to fix our-” He knocks his temple, and Stephen blinks.”Uh, you’re gonna have to be clearer about that.”

“What Tony is trying to say,” Rogers says, lightly pushing Stark back. “Is that we have-” he swallows. “We have recently found out that we are missing some… some- Wanda, what did you say it contained?”

“Memories.”

Stephen stiffens. “I was looking into James’ mind the other night- with his permission, of course!” Maximoff says quickly and then looks at Stephen like he might say something. Stephen says nothing. “And there was… this whole branch of memories, with some child and- it’s complicated. But I don’t have the power to fix it and Stark says that you’re some kind of Sorcerer Supreme.”

This is... the peak of irony. “I’m going to have to put you on hold. Wait here.”

He then slams the door on their face and turns toward Peter, who’s sprung up from behind the couch with a panicked look on his face. Stephen happens to share the same sentiment.

“What do we do?” He says, voice quiet and trembling. “You're not seriously- we can’t help them, Dr. Strange! They’d be in danger!”

Stephen sighs heavily, leaning against the door. “We can’t exactly  _ turn them down  _ either, can we? That’d look extremely suspicious. We already have enough on our hands with the whole ‘Krona’ thing, and we can’t just  _ not  _ help them-”

“I don’t know! We can’t help them but we can’t  _ not  _ help them, but we can’t let them figure us out, I-”

“Peter, Dr. Strange, may I add a suggestion?”

Both of them pause, blinking, as Karen takes their silence as a yes. “Dr. Strange could accept the invitation, and work on their heads, but instead make them forget the whole ordeal with their memories. Would that not work?”

There’s a long pause.

“I think it could…” Stephen begins but is immediately interrupted by Peter, whose eyes are the size of the moon and voice as high-pitched as Stephen suspects it can go. “NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT, WE ARE NOT OR EVER MESSING WITH THE AVENGER’S HEAD’S, THINK OF ANOTHER  _ PLAN  _ YOU DUMBASS-”

“But it’s the most efficient one-”

“NO!” Peter yells, his eyes filled with fear (and maybe a few tears, but neither of them acknowledge it), giving Stephen one of the scariest looks he’s ever seen (and he’s met giant Overlord things before) “We can- we can figure something else, just- just-”

Peter lets out a sigh that shouldn’t belong to a sixteen-year-old. “Accept, say that you can, and then I’ll come swinging in with my suit on and just say there’s an emergency, so you can leave-”

“But then they would want to know why we weren’t on the news.”

Peter groans and Stephen puts his face in his hands, exhaustedly massaging his nose and wondering when someone else would come along and take the role of Sorcerer Supreme from him. “Just say you don’t have enough power to do it? I mean, it’s a half-truth, so it wouldn’t be a lie, not technically. We don’t know if you can overpower Krona yet, because he hasn’t made a move.” There’s a pause, and Peter scrunches up his face. “Uh, he’s tried, though. Thank god for FRIDAY. FRIDAY is amazing.”

“Friday is amazing,” Stephen agrees, deciding not to open that can of worms.

“FRIDAY is amazing.” Karen chirps.

~~~

Everything is going smoothly.

Well, as smoothly as it can be with Peter awkwardly squeaking in the background of Stephen’s very fake explanation that the Avengers are eating up, although Stephen can’t help but notice Romanoff and Barnes looking at the couch Peter is hiding under (‘I’ll be fine’ He’d said) a few more times that’s necessary. They hadn’t acted on anything yet, so they should be fine (hopefully).

“I believe it would be better to get in contact with some of my colleagues,” Dr. Strange explains. “I do not have enough experience-”

“-You have plenty of experience to me-”

“But not enough to deal with whomever you’re facing.” Dr. Strange replies (a bit snappishly). “Stark, this is important. I understand that you are appalled by the lack of logic in this entire conversation, but I can assure you with my utmost confidence that one of them will manage to save your dumb asses.”

“And if they can’t?”

Stephen blinks, staring at Maximoff’s suspicious face.  _ ( _ _ Shit, she’s onto us _ _ )  _ “What do you mean?” Stephen replies impassively, and from under the couch, he can tell Peter has tensed. Stephen remains relaxed (not really), so Peter knows not to be scared and make a bolt for it.

“What if your colleagues can’t?” Maximoff asks. “Then what? Do we just give up? Spend the rest of our lives wondering what we’ve forgotten?”

Stephen lets out a scoff. “Of course not!” He says. “That’s ridiculous. If not, then we can combine our powers, or perhaps look into…” Stephen hesitates, eyes darting towards the couch, before continuing... which probably looks suspicious. “We could look into having you help yourself,” Stephen says, and Wilson furrows his brows. “I don’t under-”

“ _ DUCK! _ ”

Peter’s shriek causes Stephen to get down, covering his head panicked, and Peter practically tackles the Avenger’s heads down as gUNSHOTS RING OUT THROUGH THE AREA-

“Shit shit shit shit shit!” Peter screeches throughout the bullets and Stephen risks a look at them, finding the glass of his living room windows shattered. “Fuck, hand that over!” Peter says, head still down as he glares ferociously at Rogers. Rogers blinks, bemused, and Peter lets out a growl.

He yanks the shield out of Roger’s hands, throwing it towards Stephen. “Dr. Strange, do you have some weird spell to make it bigger or-”

“I- uh, no.”

He yanks it back, standing up with the shield and covering his body (which doesn’t seem hard, his tiny), before charging  _ into the bullets _ .

“Peter!” Stephen says, alarmed. He stands up, trying to generate a shield of magic, but nothing happens. His cloak flies up, alarm clear in their movements as they poke Stephen’s necklace- the time stone. What about the time stone? Wait.

Didn't Peter say that Krona (aka, the reason Stephen is definitely going to retire) got his powers from the time stone?

“Peter, I think Krona is interfering with my magic through the time stone-”

“Then take the goddamn necklace  _ OFF _ !” Peter shrieks, and suddenly a  _ wing guy flies in Stephen is going to have a stroke- _

Peter immediately jumps into action, clearly recognizing the black-winged guy, although he doesn’t seem to like it. “SHIT! Of all the people Krona could forget being a bitch about-”

That's when everything floods with green, and then goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this was a bit of a cliche and childish chapter, almost. my writing isn't as good in this one as others (although, a cameo from Toomes, lol) please give me (constructive) criticism, and leave comments!! thank you!!


	10. Chapter Nine: Peter Gets Pepper’s Murder Glare and Runs Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter whirls around, eyes wide as he meets the surprised face of pEPPER GODDAMN POTTS OH SHIT-

“-Concussion, luckily, no brain damage. The three bullets in the leg, a miracle he survived the shooting.”

“-When should he wake up?”

“In a week or so, Mr. Stark.”

“Great, I have a lot of questions for  _ Benjamin _ .”

Peter keeps his eyes closed, trying to identify the voices, and suddenly, with an internal jolt, realizes that the voices weren’t some nameless minions for Krona or Toomes. The female voice is Dr. Cho, and the male one is… Mr. Stark. Peter ignores the longing creeping up from his stomach. He has priorities, he can’t let him be side-tracked just because he misses Mr. Stark.

He waits until the voices are gone and he can’t hear anyone down the hall beside a security guard, and he peeks an eye open.

The ceiling is a wonderful, clean- almost too clean- white, and Peter almost immediately knows he’s in Medbay. Well, yeah, just not the room Tony likes allowing him in after Peter commented to him about how he felt a bit uncomfortable in such a clean and imposing room.

Peter swallows down the feeling of his nostalgia bubbling up his throat.  _ Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, _ He mentally chants, hoisting himself up with his arms. He stares at himself. He’s in bloody, dirty clothes, and the bottom of his pants are pushed up to his knees, wrapped up with bandages, and Peter can see it already healing. He rips out a couple of the unnecessary IVs and winces when he tries to stand up.

Painkillers are on the bedside table, along with a glass of cool, clear water, and suddenly Peter’s voice feels very dry. His leg aches with pain and he makes his way over, deducting that hopefully because he’s probably hasn’t had enough food in days, the painkiller  _ could _ work normally on him.

He limps over, opening the bottle and shaking two pills onto his hand (just in case one isn’t enough), and downs it with the glass of water-

“Uhm, hello.”

Peter whirls around, eyes wide as he meets the surprised face of  _ pEPPER GODDAMN POTTS OH SHIT- _

“Hi- Hi,” Peter stammers. “Uh, what are you doing here?” He asks, before internally face-palming. Of course, Pepper would be at the compound- the place is  _ owned  _ by Stark Industries, and indirectly, Pep.

“You’re at the Avengers compound, Benjamin.”

There’s an awkward pause. “Well, if your name is actually Benjamin.” Peter just shrugs, averting his eyes and staring out the window-  _ a window!  _ That’s gonna be his ticket out!  _ Fuck yeah! _

“It’s not, is it?”

Peter shifts nervously. “Well, uh…”

Pepper shifts and suddenly Peter is on the receiving end of her famous ‘you listen here, bitch’ look, her eyes narrowed “Tony tried to do a facial scan on you, but couldn’t find anything besides the alibi you have here at Stark Industries. Considering Dr. Strange called you  _ Peter _ , and entered Stark Industries under the name of Vincent Peterson, that’s clearly a lie. Who are you?”

Peter swallows thickly. “You wouldn’t find me even if I told you my name, Ms. Potts.”

Pepper blinks, eyes glazing over for a moment and Peter’s head picks up, alarmed. “Ms. Potts? Ms. Potts, are you okay?” He awkwardly shakes her shoulders, and she blinks, snapping out of it. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry.” Ms. Potts says, rubbing her eyes. “I- uh, give me a moment.”

Ms. Potts steps away, leaving the room presumably to tell the Avengers that Peter’s awake and kicking.

Peter closes his eyes, leaning against the table with a heavy sigh.

_ “Peter, sweetie, what’s wrong?” _

_ “It’s not your fault.” _

_ “We’ll get out of this.” _

_ “Rescue. Hm… I like it.” _

_ “We’re here to save you, duh.” _

_ “Peter- Peter, please, don’t!” _

Suddenly, Peter springs up, realization crossing his features as panic makes his way up to his throat, eyes darting towards the door. The Avengers had visited Dr. Strange because they’re remembering-  _ remembering _ ! That’s why- fuck fuck fuck fuck, oh fuck no.

Peter even  _ being  _ here was already dangerous, but him indirectly helping them remember? No, never in a million years is he going to let someone get hurt because of him.

Peter forces the locked window open (there’s no way in fuck is he going to cause property damage), and stares out of it, finding that he’s on the second floor- so they presumed that he’d be able to open the window. Luckily, they probably haven’t realized that Peter can stick to walls.

Peter crawls out the window, patting his clothes down as he sticks to the walls, crawling down remarkably like a spider, flipping and landing on the floor with ease. How long has he been asleep? He has his Spider-man duties- shot.

He glances around the area, grimacing when he just sees plain grass and a couple of bushes and wincing when he moves his foot, hearing a cracking sound. Yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have flipped off the wall with an injured foot. The bone is probably broken now. He peers further, willing his super-sight to find somewhere he can hide. Then, he sees it.

About a mile away, there’s a forest. Yes! The forest- woods, whatever! It’s there, and Peter can hide until this whole thing blows over and he can get his suit then get Dr. Strange.

Peter can run a mile on his probably broken foot. He’s enhanced! He’ll be fine. Hopefully. Maybe. Probably not.

“Painkillers,” he mumbles to himself, breaking out in a run. “Don't fail me now.”

~~~

Peter is halfway into the forest when he hears yelling.

Lots of it.

Peter silently scowls, running further and farther but the voices are getting closer, and Peter knows that if he doesn’t want his abilities to be exposed he either has to let himself be caught or hide. You can guess what he chooses.

He jumps as high as he can over row after row of thorns, although knowing Happy probably won’t stop him. Peter wonders, for a moment, if Dr. Strange is awake yet. God, Peter hopes so.

Peter, deciding that his best course of action is to not be seen, sticks onto the bark of the thickest, tallest tree he can find and scampers up it like a rat. Or a mouse. Or a spider. Spider is probably the best comparison.

He plops himself onto a branch, his legs dangling below. His breathing is heavy and he can tell that his leg is probably going to fall off if he doesn’t take a break. He listens closely as footsteps make their way across the forest, twigs breaking and leaves crunching. “It doesn’t seem that he is here, Wanda. You may want to take a break.”

Wanda heaves a couple of breaths, and Peter freezes further. She slumps against the base of the tree, and Vision floats down and sits beside her.

Peter is surprised he hasn’t been caught yet.

Wanda swings something off her back- is that guitar case? Peter knows Wanda plays guitar, but why would she want to bring it while chasing Peter across the forest? Isn’t that a bit counter-productive?

She unzips the case and plops in on her lap.

“What are you doing?” Vision asks, seeming to be just as curious as Peter is. Wanda doesn’t answer, instead tuning the guitar and Peter peers curious, shifting so he can hear better. Which he doesn’t actually need much help with because of his super hearing.

After the guitar is tuned, Wanda looks at Vision and smiles. “I- uh, your birthday was last week and no one… you know, gave you any gifts so I felt bad and…” Wanda swallows. “I made you a song.”

“You- you did?” Vision, for once, seems lost for words, and Peter’s ears turn pink. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping on a conversation like this. “How long have you been able to keep this a secret?”

“Bucky almost found out,” Wanda says with a grin. “Probably thinks I’m plotting world domination as we speak. It’s still worth it.”

“Well, show me.” Vision says with a teasing smile.

Peter winces as he stands up. He sticks to the thick bark of the and climbs up higher and hopefully farther away. He is way above invasion of privacy, doesn't matter if he’s running from a couple of Avengers.

He hesitantly places his bad foot on a higher branch, and then winces again, letting out a little grimace. He plops himself on it, no longer hearing Wanda and Vision, when-

The branch snaps and both Wanda and Vision look up, alarmed. “Vision-” Wanda begins, when Peter falls, landing on the branch he had been previously sitting on with a thud.

Wanda and Vision stare at him.

_ Shit _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, this also feels a bit clinche and overall bad, love to hear your thoughts!!


	11. Chapter Ten: Vision is Unsure of How to Proceed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You sit right there- how did you even get up the tree?”
> 
> It’s true. There are no branches on the trees up until halfway. It doesn't really matter, both Vision and Wanda can just fly up, but…
> 
> Instead of immediately apprehending the boy like he’s supposed to, Vision allows his curiosity to overtake his willingness to listen to orders. “How did I get up here?” The teenager squeaks, his face turning increasingly red moment after moment. “I- uh, I climbed?”
> 
> “With a broken ankle?” Wanda asks, sarcasm(?) clear in her voice. “And no branches?”

“Ah- shit, I’m sorry-”

The teenage boy (‘Benjamin’, from Mr. Stark’s database, but it’s unlikely that is his true name), scrambles up, screeches in pain then just plops back down onto the branch with a resigned look on his face. “I really didn’t mean to listen in!” He says in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll just- uh-”

“You sit right there- how did you even get up the tree?”

It’s true. There are no branches on the trees up until halfway. It doesn't really matter, both Vision and Wanda can just fly up, but…

Instead of immediately apprehending the boy like he’s supposed to, Vision allows his curiosity to overtake his willingness to listen to orders. “How did I get up here?” The teenager squeaks, his face turning increasingly red moment after moment. “I- uh, I climbed?”

“With a broken ankle?” Wanda asks, sarcasm(?) clear in her voice. “And no branches?”

The teenager visibly deflates. “Please don’t try mind-reading me, Wa- Maximoff. I’ll have to- uh… kill you?” The teenager, Vision observes, shifts nervously, clearly not going to go through with the threat. “Relax. That's the last resort.” Wanda says, even if her voice says that she wouldn’t mind making it her first.

“If we do not force you to come down from the tree,” Vision says, an idea popping into his mind. “Then will you tell us some information?”

The teenager hesitates- he’s considering it, Vision can tell- before opening his mouth to speak, hesitating again, and then his voice rings out through the room. “You promise?” Vision blinks- he was not expecting such vulnerability to enter this conversation.

Vision exchanges a look with Wanda, who seems to agree with Vision’s idea. Wanda nods. “Yes, of course.”

“I promise as well,” Vision agrees.

“Mr. Stark won’t be able to find anything about me anyways, My identity has been wiped from everywhere, you won't be able to find my real guardians, but if you  _ really  _ want to know-”

Mr. Stark.

The way the teenager had said the word, it feels so familiar and real. Mr. Stark Mr. Stark Mr. Stark. Why did it feel so strange hearing the word from this person? Vision shakes it off.  _ Don’t be ridiculous. Listen to the information. This is important. _

“Tell us, you’re stalling,” Wanda says, impatience and hostility seeping into her tone. The teenager learns back against the branch, surprisingly enough, not falling; and the red mist begins to form on Wanda’s hands.

Vision puts his hand on hers. She relaxes, although still glaring at the teenager. “Peter.” He suddenly says, slumping, returning to his original position. “Peter Parker.”

“Well then, Peter,” Vision says, keeping his voice level and calm. “Why are you running from the Avengers? If you are worried about your safety, I assure you that none of the Avengers will harm you or Dr. Strange.”

Peter’s eyes widen, realization crossing his features. He scrambles as far away as he can from Vision, and Vision wonders if he doesn’t believe him. Peter’s eyes dart back and forth between Wanda and Vision, before letting out a shaky exhale and looking at his hands. “Mr. Vision, Ms. Maximoff, you need- you need to get out of here!”

Mr. Vision…

_ “Mr. Vision, uhm- Mr. Stark said that- well- he said that… that- can you help me?” _

_ “How may I assist you, Peter?” _

_ “I need help with my history homework and apparently Mr. Rogers knows nothing about it. Mr. Stark said that you can help me?” _

Vision blinks- the Vision can’t blink, that’s impossible. Wanda seems just as shaken, but Peter looks the most panicked, somehow having gotten a couple of branches higher up the tree, which is nearly impossible to do without some kind of pain. Vision feels a stab of- pity? Sadness? He is unsure.

“Peter, I’m afraid we’ll have to apprehend you because we are unsure if you are on our side or not. I assure you I will personally make sure no harm comes to you.” Peter doesn’t answer, though. His eyes are trained on Wanda, and Vision realizes that she’s floating, her eyes closed and red surrounding her. Vision takes a step back, away from Wanda. “Wanda? Darling, are you okay-”

Wanda gives a sharp inhale, her eyes snapping open and revealing a bright red as she lands on the ground and on her feet. The red disappears slowly, and Wanda stares at Peter with wide eyes.

“Wanda!” Vision says, as Wanda lurches over, and slings an arm around his shoulder. “Wanda, are you okay?”

Wanda doesn’t answer for a moment, and Vision runs through all the possible things that can be wrong with her. “Wanda?” He asks again, and Peter seems unsure of what to do. He stands up, yelps (but not in pain) and falls to the ground, staring at his legs, puzzled. Wanda steadies herself, looking up at Peter with wide eyes.

“Пітер?” She breathes. Peter’s face loses all colour, and Vision looks between Wanda and Peter, alarmed. “Is something wrong, Wanda? Did Peter do something?”

“No- nonononono, of course not,” Wanda says, her eyes sparkling with- tears? Why is Wanda crying?

“Пітер…” A long pause. Vision’s eyes flicker between Peter and Wanda, and now Peter is crying too, furiously trying to wipe his tears away. Vision steps back, a flash of confusion shooting through him.

“This can’t- Wanda, please don’t tell me-” he stammers.

“Peter, I can’t believe you!” Wanda says and slowly hovers in the air, wiping away her tears. “Lying to our faces, making that stupid deal- are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Is Wanda…  _ coddling  _ Peter?

Peter shrugs, his ears turning pink, looking down. But before Vision can inquire what’s going on, Peter’s head shoots up, alarmed. “Wanda! Wanda- you’re in danger, you can’t be remembering-”

“Excuse me, Peter, but remembering what?” Vision asks, stepping forward.

“Nothing!” Peter says, panicked, and he stands up- he stands up? How is his leg okay? And how is he balancing on the tree branch? “Wanda, you’re in danger, why- I’m an  _ idiot _ !” He screeches, and to Vision’s alarm, slams his head against the wall.

“What?” Wanda asks. “Пітер, are you okay? What’s wrong? Why doesn’t Vision know who you are?”

“Wanda, Vision,” Peter says softly, backing away. “Guys, you have to get away from me- you’ll be in danger! I can’t- I won’t-”

“No!” Wanda insists, interrupting Peter with renewed anger in her voice. “Peter, I need explanations, now.” Peter opens his mouth, probably to tell her to get away again, when Wanda falls to the ground, face full of pain. “Wanda!” Vision says.

Peter’s eyes are lit up with panic, him jumping off the tree- and landing. On his feet. With no pain. At all. This makes no sense- Peter is defying logic!

“Wanda, are you okay? Wanda!” He asks, hurriedly shaking the hunched over Wanda. Vision is unsure of how to proceed. Wanda’s head suddenly snaps up, eyes glowing red again and Vision steps in front of Peter. “Where is he?” Wanda asks, turning to Peter, who takes a step back. “Пітер, where is he?”

There’s a long pause.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bullshit me!” Wanda yells, a burst of red escaping her as Peter falls to the ground with a yelp. “Where is Krona?”

“Wanda, please, calm down. Who’s Krona? I don’t understand.” Vision says.

Wanda turns to Vision, the red glow in her eyes fading away, rage draining out of her. “Vision…” She says softly. She turns to Peter. “They really don’t remember?” She asks, her voice gentle. This does not compute. Vision doesn’t have all the facts. He needs to understand. Is Peter causing Wanda harm?

“Yeah, they don’t!” Peter snaps. “And now that you do, you’re in danger!”

Wanda scowls. “Like Krona could do anything to me.” She says in a dark tone. “When I get my hands on that son of a bitch-” Vision puts a hand on hers. “Wanda, I don’t believe it is wise to curse in front of a minor.”

“But- Vision!” Wanda stands up. “Vision, don’t you remember? This isn’t just some random person- this is  _ Peter _ .”

Silence settles onto the group, Peter looking more and more shaken by the second.

“Vision,” Wanda says suddenly. “Vision, would you mind if I show you a memory?” Peter scrambles up. “What? No, Wanda,  _ don’t you dare- _ ”

“No, I don’t.” Vision says. “Please, if it will help me understand what’s going on.”

“Great,” Wanda says with a soft smile, clasping her hands together. Red wisps escape her fingers, and suddenly Vision is not there, not in the woods, anymore. No, he stares around in wonder. He’s in the compound again.

_ “Can I try?” _

A teenager- Peter! Is standing, peering at a large pot of food, and Vision is there, in an apron, stirring whatever is in it.

_ “Пітер!”  _ Wanda says, appearing around the corner.  _ “What’s going on? Vision, what are you making?” _

Peter shrugs, and Vision notices how some of the weight in his eyes- the one that had been so prominent, earlier, when he was in the woods, is gone. Joy replaces sadness.  _ “I think he’s making chicken- chicken-”  _ Peter sneezes, head shooting out of the way of the food so no germs enter it.  _ “Chicken soup.” _

_ “Пітер,”  _ Wanda says, a scolding tone in her voice.  _ “You’re supposed to be in bed. We’re supposed to be taking care of you. I don’t want Stark to sever my head.”  _ Vision notices that when Wanda is referring to Tony, her voice is…  _ fond _ . Not bitter or angry.

_ “But I don’t need to rest!”  _ Peter says.  _ “I’m a spider!”  _ He strikes a pose, and Wanda stifles a giggle.  _ “Spider’s don’t get colds!” _

Vision- whatever version of Vision this is, doesn’t look away from the food and speaks.  _ “Actually, Spiders cannot thermoregulate. I believe you have inherited that trait from the spider-bite.”  _ Peter scowls.

_ “You guys are teaming up on me, I swear. I’m not sick!” _

Wanda ruffles his hair.  _ “Sure you’re not. Still, you aren’t allowed to go on the mission. We have to take care of you. Believe me, I’d rather be on the mission than babysitting you.” _

_ “I don’t need a babysitter!”  _ Peter screeches.

_ “Mhm,”  _ Wanda says, clearly sarcastic.  _ “Yep.” _

Vision has never seen them- Wanda and him- look so  _ domestic _ . They look happier, more alive... Who is Peter? This entire scene feels  _ so  _ familiar. But how come Vision can’t remember this ever happening?

He racks his brain, but the only time he’s ever met Peter is today… so how-

Suddenly, Vision is snapped out of whatever Wanda is showing him, and Wanda stumbles back, alarmed. Both of their attention is directed towards the compound.

Which is in flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is the pacing of this book too fast  
> if it's too fast please tell me  
> i'd really like to know  
> I wont be hurt I promise


	12. Chapter Eleven: Steve is Suspicious of Whoever This ‘Peter’ is

Flames rise higher and sparks fly, the flames getting closer and closer towards Steve, but the only thing that Steve can think about is-  _ Bucky! _

“Bucky? Buck!”

A figure rises above the debris, their silhouette dark and hard for Steve to see. But where Steve is, he sees a glowing green symbol from where the person’s neck should be. Glowing green- glowing green, why does that seem so familiar?

_ “Tick tock, tick tock…” _

_ “Fine! Fine, I’ll make the deal!” _

_ “Shake on it, Parker. I want to make sure.” _

_ “Peter- Peter, please, don’t!” _

_ “Don’t touch him!” _

Steve’s eyes snap open- when were they closed?- panic just about to swallow him whole. The kid. That guy with the weird cloak thing- whoever blew up the compound! It makes so much sense- they’re working together. That’s why their past memories are locked away- they’re trying to go undercover. Trying to worm their way into the Compound- and it  _ worked _ .

The thought makes Steve’s blood run cold.

“Bucky- Buck, you okay? You awake?”

Bucky lets out a groan, shifting uncomfortably, and only then Steve realizes the piece of heavy-looking concrete is on his metal arm. Steve wrenches it off, but the damage is done. The arm- although not completely destroyed (It’s made of vibranium, after all), looks like a dead lump, electric sparks jumping out of the open circuit board, wires clearly cut or too worn to be of use.

“I’ll be fine,” Bucky grunts, holding his arm and Steve helps him up carefully. “What was that?”

“Someone bombed the Compound,” Steve says grimly. “Sam?” Steve calls. “Sam, you okay?” There’s a pained sound and then a grunt, and Sam kicks a piece of debris out of the way, face covered with soot. “I’m fine,” Sam says.

“Okay, anyone else here?”

Natasha jumps onto Sam’s back, and Sam lets out a girlish shriek. “I  _ told _ you I could scare you!” Natasha says with a smirk. Sam thrashes her off, but as always, she lands on her feet, still smirking. “Is the bomber gone?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, I think so. Everyone okay?” There’s a chorus of ‘yeahs’, and Steve lets out a small exhale of relief. “We have to find the others,” Bucky points out, leaning onto Steve. “They could be in trouble.”

“Yeah- namely Wanda and Vision. They went after the kid, right?”

“Yeah… but they  _ should  _ be safe. I mean, what can a kid do to them?” Sam asks. “He can’t be older than seventeen.” He says. Steve’s lips press into a thin line. “Well, in my opinion… a lot. I got one of those-” He pauses. Flashbacks? “-A memory.” He concludes.

“About?” Natasha prompts.

“I think the kid and the sorcerer guy are behind all of this,” Steve says. “And maybe that bomber.”

“Why on earth would you think that?” Bucky demands. “I mean, Tony trusts Dr. Strange.”

“The kid was making some kind of deal with the bomber,” Steve says. “Also, his name’s Peter Parker or something like that. I think they’re blocking our memories so that we don’t get suspicious of them.”

“That… actually makes sense,” Bucky says, before letting a ferocious stream of coughs.

“Need a cough drop, old man?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow, but Steve notes an underlying layer of concern under his voice. Great, they’re actually caring about each other. “No, I’m fine.”

“Wait-” Natasha’s head shoots up. “If your theory is right, we need to go after Wanda and Vision  _ now _ . They could be in danger!” Sam straightens and Bucky’s eyes widen.

“Hey! Hey, do you know where Peter is?”

Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Steve whirl around, ready to fight, but are met with a desperate-looking Wanda and Vision floating behind her. “Wanda!” Steve says, relief washing over him. “Wanda, Vision, are you okay?”

Wanda gives a puzzled look towards Steve. “Of course I am- why would I not? Do you guys know where Peter is?”

“Who’s Peter?”

Vision lands on the ground with a soft thump, putting a hand on Wanda’s shoulder. “The teenager,” he explains.

_ Just like his vision. _ Steve realizes.  _ Pepper had called the kid ‘Peter’. _

“He seems to think this entire thing is his fault, which is  _ stupid _ , because  _ of course, it isn’t his fault _ , thet self-deprecating insecure  _ dumbass- _ ” Wanda curses. “Wait- shit, he’s going to Dr. Strange’s room!” Wanda grabs Vision’s arm and tugs him towards what’s left of Medbay.

“Uhm, do you guys know what that was that about?” Sam asks, eyes wide.

“I think she knows that Peter is here to hurt us. We have to find Peter before any more people can get hurt.” Steve says firmly. Bucky nods. “Let's split up, we’ll cover ground faster,” Bucky says. “I’ll go with Cap,” Sam nods, brushing off some dust on his shoulder.

“And I’ll be with Natasha,” Bucky says.

Steve shifts uncomfortably. “You sure? I mean, I know you’re uncomfortable-”

“I’ll be  _ fine _ ,” Bucky stresses. “C’mon, let's go.” He gestures for Natasha to follow him, and she does. “Our favourite assassin duo,” Sam says dryly. “Whoever this bomber guy is, he’s gonna be running for the hills.”

Steve coughs. “Or she.”

“Or she.” Sam agrees. “C’mon.”

~~~

“Dr. Strange- c’mon, we gotta get out of here!”

Steve freezes, putting a hand on Sam’s chest to stop them from advancing, and they both dive behind a column. “Dr. Strange, are you okay?”

Parker’s voice is urgent, hushed, and he’s bent over a crumpled figure. Strange.

“I- will?” Strange coughs. “God, I feel like an old man. Stop it, I can help myself up.” Dr. Strange commands the kid, who immediately backs away. “Okay, okay,” Parker says. “Are you sure-”

“Yes, Peter.” Strange says exasperatedly. “Who was that guy-”

“The one that bombed the compound or-”

“The guy in my apartment.” Strange says, standing up and brushing himself off. “The rip-off Falcon.” He says. Parker shrugs. “He- That’s Toomes.” He says. “He’s a jerk. He’s a terrible, no-good weapons dealer with a lot of love for his kid, Liz. Since the world forgot who Spider-man was, I guess he would’ve never gotten caught.” Parker suddenly curses. “Damn, I should’ve realized that!”

“It’s not your fault.” Strange says, matter of factly. “You were dealing with a lot at the time.”

Parker begins to speak before suddenly freezing. “What?” Strange asks.

“Someone’s listening in on us.” He says softly. Sam and Steve tense. “wHAT?” Strange demands. “I said, someone’s listening in on us,” Parker repeats. “Do you think it’s Krona’s minions?”

“Krona’s  _ what _ -”

Steve already knows this is going downhill, jumps out from the hiding place staring down Parker. “Steve!” Sam snaps, appearing.

“Stand down,” Steve says. “We know what you’ve done.”

“What?” Parker asks.

“You bombed the compound!” Steve snaps. “And you’re under arrest-”

“Under which authority?” Strange demands. “We didn’t do anything-” Parker’s eyes widen, practically lighting up. He smacks a hand over Strange’s mouth, grinning at Steve. “Yeah! Yeah, we’re insane, totally have taken over your compound, now FRIDAY is down. Hahaha,” He says. Steve squints. What the fu-

“Stand down and no one will get hurt,” Sam says.

Strange sends a look towards Parker, clearly confused. “What- Peter-” Parker hushedly whispers to him, his brows narrowed, and Strange straightens.

“I’m afraid that won’t be happening-”

Suddenly, Strange drops down, out like a light. Parker whirls around, and behind Strange, reveals- Nat!

“Tranq darts,” She says matter of factly. She’s holding a gun up and turns it towards Parker. “Stand down.” Parker blinks. “Uh, no?” Nat shoots, the dart embedding it in Parker’s chest, but Parker doesn’t flinch, although his face twists like he’s tasting something bitter.

“Wha-” Natasha begins.

“He’s enhanced!”

Steve lurches forward, tackling Parker down before he has a chance to react. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-” Parker curses under his breath. He throws Steve off him, and Steve’s vision clouds, landing against debris with a thud. “Shit!” Parker says, and Natasha attacks him.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Black Widow ma’am!” Parker says and Natasha blinks for a moment, eyes clouding over.  _ She’s remembering _ , Steve realizes.

Parker’s face turns even more panicked. “Shit!” He exclaims, Flipping Natasha over and her landing on the concrete with a loud thud.

Steve digs his elbow into the ground, trying to stand up.

“Freeze!” Sam cries out, picking up the gun and aiming it at Peter’s chest. Peter winces. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” He repeats, almost like a mantra. Steve stands up, and so does Natasha. “Where’s Bucky?” Steve asks. Nat doesn’t answer, eyes trained on Parker.

“You’re surrounded,” Sam says. “Stand down.”

Parker moves to fight when something comes launching down from the ceiling- Bucky! He holds Parker in neck lock with his not metal arm, which is hanging from his arm like a dead limp.

Parker croaks out something incoherent, thrashing around and desperately kicking at Bucky. Slowly, he loses his energy, simply just laying there.

“I surrender,” Peter chokes out, lifting his hands up. “I surrender, okay? Is this how you surrender?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be happening, Einstein.”


	13. Chapter Twelve: Spider-Baby Knows Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t touch- Don’t- Don’t touch them!” Peter says, hoping his voice isn’t as high-pitched and trembly as it sounds to him. “I thought we made a deal!”
> 
> Natasha narrows her eyes at Peter, looking slightly confused before whispering something that Peter can’t be bothered to listen in to. His ears are ringing and alarm bells are going off in his head. He’s crying, too. Crying. Him! For fuck’s sake, he hasn’t cried in years (panic attacks do not count).
> 
> “We did,” Krona agrees. “We certainly did, until you broke it. Why did I call you Einstein again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m about to bless you with 2 chapters full of 4000 words of content altogether

Peter has never been more afraid.

Not when he laid crumpled, underneath the concrete of a warehouse, not when Peter had watched his uncle crumple to the ground in front of him, no, not even when he woke every night in those late days of the Before, aching and sweating and crying.

No. This is pure fear.

With newfound strength, he throws James off him, jumping up and in front of the Avengers (which is stupid. They’re the Avengers! But they also just attacked him. Peter should really lower his standard for Cap) Hoping his stare was enough to scare away Krona ( _ Skip,  _ a part of him thinks, making him want to recoil away.  _ Skip _ ). Krona just smirks, his goddamned tattooed neck glowing like a motherfucking glowstick.

“You’re that guy in the RnD labs!” Is the first thing James says.

(Yeah, no shit).

“Don’t touch- Don’t- Don’t touch them!” Peter says, hoping his voice isn’t as high-pitched and trembly as it sounds to him. “I thought we made a deal!”

Natasha narrows her eyes at Peter, looking slightly confused before whispering something that Peter can’t be bothered to listen in to. His ears are ringing and alarm bells are going off in his head. He’s  _ crying _ , too. Crying. Him! For fuck’s sake, he hasn’t cried in years (panic attacks do  _ not  _ count).

“We did,” Krona agrees. “We certainly did, until you broke it. Why did I call you Einstein again?”

“You  _ know,  _ I tried to get away!” Peter snarls, ignoring the fear crawling up his throat (no way is he gonna vomit now. Nope.) “You said I would get time!”

The word ‘time’ seems to echo off the walls, the tattoo (goddamnit the  _ tattoo _ ) seeming to glow brighter. “You did,” Krona agrees. “A good ‘ol whooping year and a half. Not  _ my  _ fault you didn’t do anything during your time.”

_ He’s playing into your fears.  _ Natasha’s voice whispers.  _ Don’t let him know it’s working. _

“You think I  _ didn’t _ ?” Peter asks, a hysterical laugh bubbling in his throat. “You promised  _ five years _ . I would get  _ five  _ years to make sure your crazy ass plan for world domination or whatever to fail. You know I didn’t mean to make Wanda remember! You know that I tried my fucking hardest to avoid every attempt made toward me by the Avengers, by Mr. Stark, even as  _ Spider-man! _ ”

Natasha’s eyes widen, the pieces seeming to come together through her eyes. Peter tries not to grimace.

“Well you did,” Krona says matter of factly. “And since you did, they’ll have to pay for it.”

A green blast of- of- of  _ whatever  _ it is- is blasted towards Nat, who tries to jump up and rolls out of the way. She isn’t, time forcing her movements to be sluggish and slow, and Peter watches in horror as the blast forces her back into debris.

Steve, Sam, and James immediately jump into a fighting stance, but then seem to freeze (in time). “Stop!” Peter shrieks, practically pouncing onto Krona, and punching him in the face, clearly too fast for him to react. His whole ‘I’m-a-creepy-overlord-time-thing’ falling apart as he lands on the floor, nose bleeding.

“Son of a-”

(if Peter says he isn’t just a bit smug, he’d be lying.)

Krona, of course, is able to retaliate and the bit of smugness begins to fade as Peter is thrown into the air, panic rising in his throat like bile.

The Avengers are still frozen in time, but Peter  _ knows  _ they can see what’s going on. Peter swallows the bit of bile and puts on a brave face. This is what he should’ve been doing since the start. Krona is his problem. The Avengers don’t deserve to get hurt because of Peter.

_ “Tick tock, tick tock…” _

The words echo across the room ( _ he’s playing with your mind, Peter _ ), and Peter grimaces. Krona’s eyes glow, and he stands up back to his weird floating thing. Wow, Krona really needs a new aesthetic. It’s terrible.

_ “No! Stop- please!” _

_ “This is what will happen.” _

_ “No, that’s an empty threat.” _

_ “Leave me alone!” _

_ It’s the world’s life or the world’s memories, which do you choose?” _

_ “Tick tock, tick tock…” _

_ “Don’t touch him!” _

**_“Don’t touch him!”_ **

**_“Tick tock, tick tock…”_ **

**_“Don’t touch him!”_ **

_ “Leave me  _ **_alone_ ** _!” _

_ It’s the world’s  _ **_life_ ** _ or the world’s  _ **_memories_ ** _ , which do you  _ **_choose_ ** _?” _

**_“Choose”_ **

**_“Memories”_ **

**_“Life”_ **

_ “Don’t be  _ **_selfish_ ** _ ” _

Peter swallows back the bitter taste in his mouth kicking frantically at the air. He sticks his hand against the half-crumpled wall, his feeling of bitter joy starts as Krona’s powers don’t seem to rip him off. He kicks upwards, his foot connecting with the wall, and he sticks to it, amazed that Krona is physically incapable of throwing him off.

“Пітер!”

Wanda.

_ Wanda-  _ shit, Wanda!

“Hi, Ms. Maximoff,” Peter says, jumping onto the next piece of concrete because it seems like Krona’s new plan is to just destroy Peter with magic beams.

“Пітер- oh it’s  _ this son of a bitch _ .”

Much to Peter’s awe and fear, her eyes turn a very vibrant red, as Peter ducks out of the way of another beam of light. “Wanda, don’t you  _ daRE- _ ”

Too late, Wanda is in the air, her hands glowing red and looking very menacing. Which reminds Peter,  _ don’t get on Wanda’s bad side. _ Peter swallows down the worry building up in his chest.  _ Wanda can handle herself.  _ He silently reminds himself.  _ She’s like a super-powerful-being, you don’t need to worry about her. _

Wanda sends a blast of red towards Krona, which he easily deflects, seeming to not be too worried about her, which is good for Peter, because he thinks he’ll develop Mr. Stark’s heart condition if he is.

Peter ducks down, making eye contact with Wanda, whose eyes glow an even brighter red.

_ “Why do you not have your webs?” _

_ Because I didn’t bring my webshooters, dumbass! _

_ “Go. I will distract Krona.” _

_ But- _

_ “Go!” _

Peter jumps onto the wall and nods towards Wanda, before scurrying away. He can practically hear Natasha try to connect the dots.

He ducks under falling pieces of walls, trying and successfully navigating towards Tony’s lab. Where it’s mostly unaffected by the blast. He presses the button to open the door and waits patiently for it to open-

“You are not authorized to enter here.”

FRIDAY is  _ online _ ? Wow, okay, Peter gives FRIDAY less credit than she deserves. Peter lets go, letting out a heavy sigh. Come  _ on _ , there has to be a way in- come on, Peter, think! How can Peter enter without having to hack into FRIDAY’s code...

Wait.

What if-?

“FRIDAY, override with Spider-Baby Knows Best Protocol.”

_ Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease- _

“Authorization overridden: Spider-Baby Knows Best.”

Peter lets out a shaky sigh of relief, the doors opening as he rockets inside, searching desperately for some kind of webshooters. Peter  _ knows  _ that he has at least one, hidden away webshooter in here, and making webs is very, very easy with the chemicals he has available to him.

Rummaging through all his hiding spots, he grabs a very old pair of webshooters he lent to Mr. Stark during the Before and grabbing quite a few of the chemicals needed. He sloppily pours them together, mixing furiously with his finger. It bubbles and then spills over.

Peter picks up a nearby glass bottle, quickly pouring the web fluid into it before sloppily pouring it into his webshooters.

He smiles as he snaps the webshooters shut, snapping them on his arms and allowing a couple of messy containers to drop.

He jumps and crawls, his movements blurring together in his vision as he searches for wherever the debris of the medbay is.

He sees a faint green glow, and ignoring nausea growing in his stomach and his spider-sense tingling (god that sounds terrible), jumps forward, jumping into the room.

To his surprise (no, not really), Vision went from a synthetic android to the hardest popsicle on earth. “You gotta be  _ kidding me _ ,” He mutters, lifting his webshooters and immediately crawling up the wall and shooting at Krona to get him stuck.

It’s one thing for Krona to be, essentially, a time and mind overlord, but to  _ have good reflexes?  _ How is that  _ fair _ ?

The web ends up in fires, and the chemical compounds  _ in  _ the web seem to contain something to make the flames rise higher. Peter will have to investigate what that is about later.

He moves onto a tall piece of concrete that definitely will lead to his downfall if he doesn’t move soon. He squints at Krona, who’s now occupied with Wanda, whose face is twisted furiously, eyes brimming with tears.

There’s a bright flash, causing Peter to automatically recoiling, the light probably 10 times brighter than it actually is to him (cons of having super-sight).

He moves around, behind the dimly lit figure of Krona, webshooters out and ready to shoot-

“Stop.”

Another, even brighter flash of light and Peter freezes.

He swallows, staring at the frozen position Wanda is in, her arms twisted unnaturally, holding a kitchen knife-  _ a kitchen knife _ \- at her neck. Vision lets out a choked cry. “Stop fighting,” Krona ( _ Skip _ ) hisses, a smirk spreading across his lips. “Stop fighting or she dies.”

“Liar,” Peter chokes out. “You’re lying, you didn’t kill them last time.”

(He pretends not to see the way Natasha curiously stares at Peter, before her face crumples, realizing.)

“Do you want to test that?” Krona says softly, (that bastard) and the knife is pressed against Wanda’s throat and she lets out a probably involuntary pained cry. “No!” Peter cries out, allowing his webshooters to clatter against the floor. “No, no no no no, I stand down, okay? I stand down.”

The flames seem to hold their breath, the world seeming to freeze around them. It could’ve, Krona can freeze time.

“What do you want,” Peter says slowly, raising his hands. He doesn’t say it, but the unspoken question is there.  _ How can I keep them safe? _

Krona grins, flashing his teeth and Peter falters.

_ “Come on, Einstein! Why don’t we conduct a little experiment of our own?” _

“Simple,” Krona says, the knife pressing harder against Wanda’s throat, and a line of blood begins to form, making Peter’s stomach twist. “I want you to-”

“HULK SMASH!”

Krona is  _ picked up  _ by Hulk, startling him out of his triumph, his powers fading away as the Avengers are thrown out of the time freeze, Wanda falling to the floor as Vision zooms towards her. “Oh thank chicken nuggets,” Peter breathes, breaking out into a sprint and picking up his new webshooters, and shooting them towards a crumpled wall.

“Jesus, Jolly green, we  _ agreed  _ that we’d attack  _ after  _ we heard the time guy’s plan,” A voice says, the sound of powering up blasters greeting Peter.

_ Mr. Stark _ .

Peter’s chest constricts, his eyes involuntarily darting up towards Mr. Stark, plummeting into the wall with a loud thud. “Ah, shit,” Peter mumbles, his side groaning with pain. Wanda snickers.

_ Wanda! _

“Wanda? Wanda! Are you okay, are you hurt? I’m sorry- I’m so sorry please don’t be mad-”

“Hey,” Wanda says, straightening from her crumpled position on the ground. “I’m fine. Fighting isn’t supposed to include this much talking,” She says with a grin, and Peter lets out what probably is a watery laugh.

“You’re on the bench,” Peter commands, and Wanda recoils back, eyes narrowed. “What? But I’m older than you, you don’t get to-”

“Yes I do!” Peter says sticking his tongue out at Wanda.

“Mature,” Wanda mutters, and Peter shoots a web up in the air, connecting to the end of Mr. Stark’s suit, Peter is lifted up and shot across the open, flaming air. “What the-” Mr. Stark turns his head, staring at Peter and Peter almost freezes, glaring down at Krona. “Kid, you’re Spider-man?”

Peter flips Mr. Stark the bird. (It’s oddly satisfying, too.)

Unfortunately, below them, the Avengers aren’t having much luck with Krona  as expected. The idea of it makes Peter’s stomach churn. Three quarters of the group below have been frozen in time, Krona effortlessly slamming each of them into some debris, or flames, or both, and then freezing them in time.

“Spidey!” Mr. Stark says, darting upward in a sharp motion that causes the webs to retract.

Peter shoots a web towards a nearby electricity pole, swinging down and landing on the ground, firmly on his feet. “What?” He demands, ignoring the way his stomach churns and a phantom pain shooting out from his leg.

_ Don’t act like yourself. If you act like yourself then Mr. Stark will remember. _

“Shoot him against a wall or something. I’ll deal with the rest.”

Peter rolls his eyes, (hopefully) keeping his voice in a bitter tone. Maybe if he’s silent and angry Mr. Stark won’t pay too much attention to Peter. “Easier said than done,” He mumbles, breaking out in a run towards Krona, whose back is very helpfully turned around and facing away from Peter.

He shoots out a web, but it misses, and Krona whips around, sending a blast of green towards Peter. He is blasted back, falling to the ground with a thud- is a storm brewing? Peter swears, he just heard some thunder. Is that lightning?

He faintly makes out the blurry image of Tony trying to blast Krona and failing, blasted back before being hovered towards Krona, wispy green surrounding the wide-eyed Tony. Peter pushes himself up, ignoring how his entire body aches. “No!”

He runs forward, forcing himself to walk because  _ Mr. Stark’s life is on the line _ .  _ Tony’s  _ life is on the line, and if Peter allowed Tony to die, he’d never forgive himself.

Then Tony drops to the ground, landing with a loud thud and a very much alive groan and Peter lets out a sigh of relief, a familiar blond-haired figure kicking Krona down and knocking him out.

“You dare hurt Starkson? I will end you!”

Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had googled skip westcott to find a phrase from the comics and eW NOW THATS ON MY SCHOOL ACC HISTORY WHY DID MY DUMBASS GOOGLE THAT WITHOUT REALIZING I WAS ON MY SCHOOL ACC-


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Tony Hates Time Overlords. He Also Hates When His Mind is Messed With.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing with Thor is that most of the names he gives people are quite literal. He refers to Tony as Man of Iron. But mostly, it’s the perception he has of a person is what makes a name that seems to stick for him. Tony, at the time Thor had arrived at earth, was more commonly known as Iron Man, and when someone from space who has no idea what Earth Metaphors are, would genuinely think that Tony, is in fact, made of iron.
> 
> So that means that the perception, of whatever the relationship that Spider-man and Tony had, was similar to a father-son relationship in Thor’s eyes. And while he may be an equivalent to a toddler when it comes to earth knowledge… Thor is actually pretty smart in the terms of relationships.

The idea of Tony forgetting that someone like Pepper or Rhodey exists makes Tony want to puke. It makes Tony want to confess all his sins because the idea of putting someone who loved Tony, in whatever context it is, through that much pain, makes Tony want to puke.

The idea that Tony is the reason that the doe-eyed kid who can climb walls is suffering makes Tony want to puke.

_“You dare hurt Starkson?”_

_“... hurt Starkson?”_

_“Starkson?”_

The thing with Thor is that most of the names he gives people are quite literal. He refers to Tony as Man of Iron. But mostly, it’s the perception he has of a person is what makes a name that seems to stick for him. Tony, at the time Thor had arrived at earth, was more commonly known as Iron Man, and when someone from space who has no idea what Earth Metaphors are, would genuinely think that Tony, is in fact, made of iron.

So that means that the perception, of whatever the relationship that Spider-man and Tony had, was similar to a father-son relationship in Thor’s eyes. And while he may be an equivalent to a toddler when it comes to earth knowledge… Thor is actually pretty smart in the terms of relationships.

_“Thor… god of lesbians!”_

Tony blinks, his fingers pausing for a moment, staring at the screen full of code. He lets out a sigh.

Stark Mansion, has very well-accommodating rooms. Luxurious beds and the highest of quality lighting, showers the size of football fields, Steve sometimes compared.

Yet Stark Mansion has never felt like home.

Not even when Tony was a child. When the world was simple, he knew, somewhere deep down in his heart, that Stark Mansion is not a home. At least, his home.

Home is his workshop in Malibu, which Tony has never really gotten to replacing. It’s JARVIS’s soothing voice and the times where the worst problem Tony had was paperwork. Not… worrying about evil time overlords from taking over the planet.

“Stark.”

Tony whirls around, standing up, his gauntlet forming on his hands. He aims the repulsor at… Wanda?

“Jesus Christ, Hocus Pocus!” Tony says, clutching his chest and flopping back down onto the spinning chair. “What’re you doing _here_?” He asks, ignoring how his heart pounds frantically against his chest. A phantom pain throbs across where his arc reactor is.

Wanda looks at Tony for a moment, looking tired and aching and sad and it sort of makes Tony want to hug her. Tony turns around so he doesn’t act on his urges, going back to typing. “I was wondering… do you mind if I show you something?”

Tony pauses. “You never ask people to show them stuff. You just do it, which is, by the way, very traumatizing for some of us.”

Wanda winces, clearly hearing the jab at the HYDRA raid. Tony tries to stop himself from feeling bad.

“Peter…” There’s a long, aching pause. “Peter refuses to tell you the truth.”

Tony’s head shoots up, alarm ringing through his head. “What truth? Why would- is he actually part of the enemy?” He demands, but Wanda continues on, acting as if she hadn’t even heard him. “He is under the delusion that he still needs to protect you,” She says.

Tony deflates, but can’t help but feel relieved. Spider-man isn’t part of some world domination scheme. Good.

“Which is ridiculous,” Wanda says, sounding her fists clenched. “We are the Avengers! We can handle our own.”

“We weren’t able to defeat the time guy until Thor and Loki came along,” Tony reminds her. Wanda rolls her eyes. “We still defeated him.” Wanda points out. Tony shrugs.

“So…?”

“I’d like to…” She shifts from side to side, making little wisps of red magic in her hands. Tony _knows_ it’s just a nervous habit but that doesn’t reassure him. He scoots just a bit closer to his desk. “Show you a memory… of us.”

There’s a long pause, and Tony turns around, curiosity getting the better of him.

“What do you mean… us?”

“As in Peter and you and the rest of the Avengers,” Wanda says with a choked laugh, and Tony suddenly realizes Wanda is _crying_ . Jesus Christ. Who _was_ Peter to the group? “You were… always the closest with him. Steve refuses to budge, and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, but… you’re the one with the best chance at remembering.”

The raw emotion in her voice is enough to sway a stronger man.

“Fine,” Tony grumbles, leaning against his desk with a sigh. “But if it turns out you’re working for the enemy and are gonna mind control me, I _will_ punch you in the face.”

She smiles. “I assure you, I’m not.”

She lifts her hands, doing those weird hand motion things (it looks like something straight out of a movie), red escaping her ands and enveloping Tony, and a feeling of peace- of happiness- wash over him. Tony wonders if Wanda’s powers depend on her emotion, which probably isn’t safe.

He stares at the crafted-up scene in front of him, the kid- _Peter_ , a younger version of Peter- standing in front of other-Tony who’s ruffling his hair.

 _“Jesus Christ, kid,”_ Other-Tony says, as younger-Peter flushes. _“I’m telling you, they will love you.”_ Peter rolls his eyes, seeming to not notice the other Avengers staring at them. _“You don’t know that!”_ He says, practically vibrating on the spot. _“They could think that I’m insane! Or, I dunno, that I’m your son! Do you know how many people have thought I’m your son? It’s insane! And what if they realize-”_

Steve awkwardly clears his throat, eyes darting between Peter and Tony frantically. _“Is this who you wanted us to meet?”_

Peter jumps way higher than a normal human is supposed to, sticking to the ceiling, Clint blanching behind Steve. _“jesUS CHRIST, WHAT THE FUCK!”_ He screeches, clutching his chest with alarm. _“Hey!”_ Other-Tony snaps. _“No inappropriate language in the presence of the kid!”_

 _“You swore like a sailor in front of my kids,”_ Clint retorts.

Sam, who’s peeking over Clint with an alarmed expression. _“You’re that spider-dude?”_ He demands. _“Queens?”_

Peter’s head pokes- down?- alarmed. _“Would you… would you believe me if I said no?”_ He squeaks. _“No, I don’t think they would.”_ Other-Tony says amusedly. _“Three…”_ he begins, and Peter almost immediately catches on. _“Two…”_

 _“One.”_ Other-Tony and Younger-Peter say, and the room erupts into chaos.

_“YOU BROUGHT A KID TO BERLIN?”_

_“DID HIS PARENT EVEN KNOW?”_

_“I’m an orphan,”_ Younger-Peter squeaks. Other-Tony rolls his eyes.

_“I threw a gaNGWAY ONTO A MINOR FUCK I THREW A LITERAL GANGWAY ONTO A MINOR-”_

_“I can lift 10 tons, I was fine.”_

_“YOU CAUGHT MY PUNCH, WHAT THE FUCK?”_

Younger-Peter sighs resignedly, and Other-Tony lets out a whistle. _“In my defence! Peter over here refused to let me tell his Aunt!”_

The entire group rounds onto Younger-Peter, who shrinks. _“Mr. Stark blackmailed me!”_ He throws out. The Avengers round onto Other-Tony. _“I took away his suit after he split a ferry in half, and he still went after the Vulture!”_

_“I tried to warn Happy!”_

_“Happy was busy with moving day!”_

Moving… day?

_“I saved your plane!”_

_“And nearly got killed in the process!”_

The Avengers look just as confused as Tony feels, clearly unsure how to proceed, Other-Tony and Younger-Peter are glaring at each other, both arms crossed and determination clear in their features. _“Another point has been added to Tony’s side.”_ FRIDAY’s voice rings out.

 _“Oh, c’mon!”_ Younger-Peter curses and Other-Tony gives a satisfied smirk, punching his fist in the air. _“Haha! I won!”_

The image fades and Wanda is staring at him, looking resigned.

“What… was that?” Tony manages.

“You had a game,” Wanda explains. “I asked FRIDAY about it, you guys had a game where you’d argue about who was stupider during what she called the “Homecoming Fiasco”. I never learned what it meant. I think she still has it in her system, even if she doesn’t know it. FRIDAY?” Wanda looks up at the ceiling.

“I haven’t installed FRIDAY into the mansion yet,” Tony says, gesturing to the computer full of code. “That’s what I’m working on.”

“Oh,” Wanda says, sounding embarrassed. “Uhm… yeah.”

They sit there in awkward silence for a moment. “Don’t tell Peter I showed you,” Wanda says suddenly, and Tony meets her eyes, confused. “Why?”

“He’ll be furious,” Wanda says, tracing circles into the counter. “He… thinks if you don’t remember, you’ll be safe. I understand his concern, but…” Wanda sighs. Tony blinks. “Was Peter the one to take our memories?” Tony asks.

Wanda blanches. “What? No! Krona took them.”

“Who’s… Krona?”

“Why don’t you ask Peter yourself,” Wanda says, standing up. “Anyways, I have to go before Peter realizes where I am. He’s reading a book with Loki.”

Tony shivers. “Am I the only one who feels nervous around that guy? I mean, I know he was being mind-controlled, but…”

Wanda looks at Tony, her gaze tired and sad. “You didn’t before,” she says softly.

~~~

“Uhm… hi?”

Tony doesn’t even have to turn around to know it’s Peter, his voice soft and much younger than anyone else in the Mansion. “I just wanted to… uhm, say thank you for letting me stay here!” Peter squeaks. “But I already have a place to stay and I don’t want to bother you so I just wondering if I could leave because-”

“Who’s Krona?” Tony says, swivelling around in his chair, meeting Peter’s wide eyes.

“What?” Peter asks.

“Wanda told me-” _great, Wanda is gonna murder me_ “- that the person to take our memories was some guy named Krona. I really don’t like people messing with my mind. Please, tell me.” Tony says, and Peter’s face fills with panic.

“Uhm, I have no idea what you’re talking... About?”

“Don’t bullshit me, kid. It’s an insult to my intelligence.”

Peter’s face flushes. “I- he’s a Mireacs,” He says. “He’s also in your basement right now, probably working on escaping as we speak.”

“What the fuck is a Mireacs?” Tony demands, picking up a wrench and throwing it up and down and up again. “And he won’t get out. That’s top of the line tech, was able to contain a god.”

Peter swallows. “The Mireacs are… a species. From the planet Mireaca. They- uh, most of them were wiped out in a nuclear explosion, but the rest joined Thanos’ army. Krona included.” Tony rolls his eyes. “So this alien part of some psycho insane titan’s army that supported genocide.”

Peter nods. “Yeah. After Thanos was defeated, I think he was looking for… revenge? Which really makes no sense because then he would be going after Asgard, not us. There are some personal ties between him and Earth, I guess.”

Peter shrugs. “That’s all I know.”

“Why did he target you?”

Peter gives a wry smile. “I ask myself that question every day.”

Tony turns around, expecting the conversation to be finished, but then decides that _now_ is the perfect time for questions. Peter avoids the Avengers like the plague (much to Wanda and Thor’s disappointment) and tags along with Loki everywhere. This may be the last time Tony ever gets to talk with the kid.

“Who…”

Peter turns around, looking surprised, having about to leave the workshop. “Yes?” He asks politely, eyes darting towards the door as he shifts towards it. “Who was I to you?”

Peter’s face falls into a clearly carefully schooled expression. “What do you mean?”

“I forgot you. I knew you. Thor knows you. Loki and Wanda do too. Who was I to you?”

Peter’s face is the picture of surprise, eyes wide. “You were- we weren’t friends. We just… worked together.” He says and turns around, but Tony knows- he knows that he’s lying. He doesn’t know how, but he knows

“Peter, we don’t need protecting.”

Peter doesn’t answer, opening the door.

“You’re not in this alone.”

Peter pauses. Tony keeps his back turned, but he can practically hear the hesitation in his steps.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tHEY RELEASED THE NAME FOR SPIDERMAN THREE  
> HOLY SHIT  
> if you didn't know the movie is called
> 
> no way home
> 
> but fuck now i actually have to watch endgame and ffh


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Loki To The Rescue!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Additionally, Natasha keeps trying to catch Peter. “Let’s train,” She said. “It’ll be fun,” she said. “Totally not going to apologize for things that are Peter’s fault,” she said.

How.

Actually, you know what? _Why_. 

Why, Krona, are you a fucking negligent son of a bitch, and _forgot_ to erase the memories of Loki and Thor and probably the rest of Asgard? Peter _knows_ that Krona can erase the minds of gods. Hell, _Wanda’s_ done it. It would be a piece of cake for Krona.

Krona doesn’t just… _forget_ things. He probably has a 2 dollar hello kitty journal tucked away in wherever his evil lair, with a full 59 step plan. He always has a _reason_. It makes no sense.

Loki understands. Sort of. He understands trying to protect others by lying, so Loki agreed not to tell anyone. Peter doesn’t join their ‘team dinners’ while the group hides out in Mr. Stark’s mansion, but he can probably assume that Thor tells the _grand tale_ of the _Man of Spiders_.

Additionally, Natasha keeps trying to catch Peter. “Let’s train,” She said. “It’ll be fun,” she said. “Totally not going to apologize for things that are Peter’s fault,” she said.

Natasha doesn’t remember. Peter knows this. Because if she did, she would storm up into his room and haul his ass down to the living room for explanations. But she knows what’s going on, done to every detail, every hidden, ugly truth about it.

So really Peter just wants to hide in his room and sob.

Worst of all? Dr. Strange hasn’t woken up. Natasha overloaded her tranq dart and his injuries have practically sent him into a coma. Which fucking _sucks_ , because he’s probably the only one who can help get rid of the Mireac in the basement.

~~Then maybe they can figure out how to return their memories.~~

Don’t be selfish, Peter.

Loki is a fun guy to have around. He’s already stabbed Peter twice, which Peter is pretty sure is his method of affection, and Peter’s enhanced-enhanced healing fixes it up in a matter of seconds. Peter really wants to know why he has that healing, but he’s also pretty sure he _doesn_ ’ _t._

He also likes reading. And 10x smarter Thor, let’s be honest.

Sometimes, Loki offers for Peter to help him prank the Avengers. ‘Take your anger out on them’ was his exact wording, which probably draws the line of differences between them. Still, Loki is nice and quiet and knows exactly why Peter is so afraid, he doesn’t bother Peter about telling the others the truth.

Loki has turned into a vibrant, adorable green snake, curled up on Peter’s head and is probably napping just to piss Peter off. Because then Peter can’t climb up ceilings when Loki is on his head, and Peter definitely doesn’t have the heart to wake him up.

Peter sits, shifting uncomfortably so that Loki is comfortable on Peter’s head. Peter can’t focus on the words.

His mind is racing with ways of how he wants to jump out of a window.

Wanda is sitting, ‘casually’ staring out the 'window behind Peter’ (not Peter what are you talking about) and drinking some Sokovian tea (Peter’s mind cuts to the ‘spill the tea’ meme), Natasha is ‘reading’ some magazine, and Thor is ‘subtly’ practicing poses at the door, which really isn’t subtle at all with the way his eyes cut towards Peter about half the time. Mr. Stark is sitting in the middle of them, designing some new upgrades for his Iron Man suit. Peter can’t help but silently appreciate that he’s actually working and not here as part of some kind of ploy to make Peter confess all his sins.

Peter _really_ wants to jump out of a window.

Peter is also pretty sure that Loki is pretending to sleep, but you can never be sure because it’s really hard to see with a snake. Peter would like to think that he’s actually sleeping because Peter can tell that Loki’s been having nightmares.

Mr. Stark’s eyes flick up, probably to talk to FRIDAY. He then sees the entire room and the way everyone is staring so intensely at Peter.

“Hey,” Mr. Stark says, rolling his eyes. “Give the kid some space.”

_“Give the kid some space! Seriously!”_

_“Breathe in and out with me, okay? Everything is okay. You’re in the tower.”_

_“Yeah, I know.”_

_“No, I’m not dead. I’m right here. My brains haven’t been blown out by some random guy, I swear.”_

_“I'm going to kill him. I’m going to kill Westcott.”_

Peter swallows the lump in his throat, his heart pounding frantically and nodding along with Tony’s statement. “Yeah, guys… you aren’t exactly subtle.” He mumbles, staring down at the book and at one word, in particular, trying to make it seem like he really doesn’t want to jump out a window. _Shattered_. How ironic.

“Пітер…” Wanda says slowly. “Пітер, we need to talk.”

Peter abruptly stands up, careful to keep sleeping Loki in balance on his head. “No, we don’t.” He says, turning to face the door. “Thank you, goodbye.”

Tony snickers silently to himself and that makes Peter smile. He moves to leave, when Thor jumps in front of the door, crossing his arms. “No, Man of Spiders! I _demand_ an explanation of why-”

Loki slithers drowsily across Peter’s head, letting out a sleepy snake yawn and jumping to the ground, turning into human form and whipping out a couple of knives. Peter blinks. Yay. Loki to the rescue.

“Get out of the way, you big oaf.” He growls. “Before I make you.”

Thor opens his mouth to speak, but Natasha buts in, sending a venomous look towards Loki. “You’re already on thin ice here, _Loki_.” She spits. “Stay out of things that aren’t your problem.”

“I’d get sent back to Thanos thousands of times if it meant that Peter was to feel safe in a safe house,” Loki snarls back, and almost involuntarily, Peter snickers.

The room’s attention is quickly brought back to Peter, and he shrinks.

“Sorry, Loki,” Peter says quietly. “I- uh, just… that sounds like something straight out of a romance novel.” He admits, and Loki blinks, before his face twists into a disgusted look. “You?” He asks, and Peter can already hear the teasing note in his voice. “Why would I court you? You are thousands of years younger than me. Practically a baby! Oh, I can see the resemblance now.”

Peter snorts. “Mhm, yep.” He says, pushing Thor out of the way. “And that is?”

“Your chubby little cheeks and your squeaky voice,” Loki says, ‘thoughtfully’. “You are so naive! And innocent. I should deliver you to bed, perhaps read you a bedtime story and give you some warm milk?” Peter grins, nervousness fading away as they walk away from the room.

“Shut up.”

~~~

“Dr. Strange is awake.”

“Yeah?”

“And he wants to meet Krona.”

Anyone with ears could be able to hear the obvious panic in Peter’s voice, much to his irritation. Loki turns a page, both of them locked into Peter’s hopefully temporary room. “So?”

“ _So_ ?” Peter demands, pacing the room anxiously. “ _SO?_ He absolutely positively _cannot_ meet Krona, at least not yet, he got like five bullets in the leg and a gazillion amounts of alien radiation and nearly got turning into ash had it not been for the cloak. I really appreciate him helping to get rid of Krona, but-”

Peter lets out a long screech, Loki casually turning the pages in the book. “What do I do, I can’t convince him _not_ to, because he has Wanda, Natasha, Thor _and_ Tony backing him up. How do I stop Dr. Strange from making a terrible, no good, _mistake_.” He screeches.

“If I remember correctly, he’s Midgardians Sorcerer Supreme, yes?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Then he should be able to handle himself. Not everything is your responsibility, Peter.”

Peter pauses. “I know that, but-”

Loki looks up from the book. “Peter.” He says. “Dr. Strange can fucking handle himself. You don’t have to worry about him. If I remember correctly, sorcerers on Midgard heal fast. You cannot protect anyone.”

Peter purses his lips. “I can try,” he mutters.

“At what cost? The only responsibility you have is your own. It’s time you realize it.”


	16. Chapter Fifteen: It’s Time to Hear Krona’s Fucked Up Reasoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krona is a timebender, the most powerful of the Mireacs. The most brilliant of any form of life in this universe. He’s mastered every single opponent in his way, the controlling of minds, torturing with a simple glance. Yet there is one thing left to tackle.
> 
> Fate.
> 
> Fate, the one thing he cannot touch. His end. Uncertain and unclear and unknown. He cannot guarantee that he will succeed, he realized that fateful day. He knew that such an end was not guaranteed, but if that is what the timebender had seen, it could be one. Fate, the timelines, all of it. It had to be gone for Krona to finally get his justice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: there are mentions of Peter's raping as a kid. It's just really Krona revealing to Strange about how evil he actually is.
> 
> are you ready for disgustingness
> 
> as the author I’d like to say that anything in this chapter my character says is DEFINITELY not something I support or idealize. There’s a reason he’s the villain. Just because my character supports something doesn’t mean i do

Earth is a strange place.

People idealize lies, hope for foolish things that will never happen. When he was ‘Skip Westcott’, not Krona, people spoke to him about all sorts of things, and every time he heard one, he vomited a little bit in his mouth.

 _This_ is what humans are like? Krona had wondered.

Krona’s job had been simple, one that Thanos himself had handed him. To find where in this foolish world are the infinity stones, and if possible, to steal it. He had found it. In Nepal, with a bunch of wannabe wizards, dressed in terrible cloaks and in the hands of some ‘Ancient One’.

That wasn't the only thing he found.

There, among the cloaks and among the foolish, childish games, was his parents. Dressed up with in, blending in so well, fooling themselves over with playing with those _children_. Arn and Eveily Stone, the timebenders. Reduced to something as small as this.

Krona seeks revenge. He craves it, craves watching this place that ripped away his childhood, that burned down his once simple life and brilliant life, he craves watching flames rise higher and brighter and bigger, watching it burn down to nothing but ash.

Then Thanos found his plan, found his unloyalty and ‘selfishness’. As punishment, Thanos did not say anything. He did not torture him like his child Nebula, nor did he exile or kill Krona.

No, Thanos knows how to make the unloyal ones squirm.

A dream, a horrid, wretched dream of everything he’s worked for in his entire life to fall apart. Of a child- a mere _child_ , binding his powers away into a place of oblivion, everything he’s ever wanted to shatter in some child’s hands.

A timebender had looked into his ‘future’, had found his fate, and repeatedly gave him those terrifying, gut-wrenching dreams.

Betrayed by his own kind.

So Krona, had come up with a solution.

It was simple, really.

Krona is a timebender, the most powerful of the Mireacs. The most brilliant of any form of life in this universe. He’s mastered every single opponent in his way, the controlling of minds, torturing with a simple _glance_. Yet there is one thing left to tackle.

 _Fate_.

Fate, the one thing he cannot touch. His end. Uncertain and unclear and unknown. He cannot guarantee that he will succeed, he realized that fateful day. He knew that such an end was not guaranteed, but if that is what the timebender had seen, it could be one. Fate, the timelines, all of it. It had to be gone for Krona to finally get his justice.

His sister called it insane.

She is now ash.

~~~

“The man of the hour,” Krona says dryly, leaning against the dusty wall with a sigh. “Dr. Stephen Strange.”

“Ah yes, thank you.” Strange replies with a roll of his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Krona cannot bring himself to care, staring intently at the necklace wrapped around his neck like a fucking jewel that only rich humans wear. Krona wants to rip it off Strange’s neck and seize control of his fate

 _Not yet_ . He silently reminds himself. _Soon_.

“You’re from Kamar-Taj, aren’t you?”

There is a long pause. “Kamar-Taj has been destroyed for the past few years. But yes, I used to be one of the students in Kamar-Taj.” He narrows his eyes at Krona, and Krona almost laughs at Strange’s attempt at intimidating him. “Why do you want to know?”

“My parents were wizards there,” Krona says, opening a portal and snatching a human clockwatch from it, feeling an odd sort of glee rise up in him when Strange takes a step back. “But before that, they used to be timebenders.”

Strange doesn’t answer for a moment, and that makes Krona give a satisfied smile. “What are… Timebenders?”

Strange’s curiosity definitely outweighs his loyalty, somewhat. Krona smirks. “We play with time,” he says, painting an illusion of a famous artwork, a piece that he, as a child, admired. “We correct reality, we see the future. We can pause parts of it, make an entire timeline freeze.” Krona slashes his hand through it. “We cannot control time.” He says softly.

He throws the clockwatch up and down, leaning against the wall, and throws it up and down and up and down, watching how Strange stares, almost entranced by where the portal once was.

“How is that possible?” Strange breaths. “Loki enchanted the technology himself.”

Krona snorts. “ _Loki_ was the one who put the runes on here?” Krona asks, gesturing to the wall. “Some ‘god of magic’ he is. No idea what potential Thanos saw in him.”

Strange lifts his hands, beginning to cast a spell, when the runes Krona placed on the basement doors glow a brilliant colour of green, and the amber colour fades to nothingness. The doors slowly slam shut.

Glee fills Krona, watching as momentary panic flicks across Strange’s face. He knows what trouble he’s in now. He knows.

“What… have you done.” Strange whispers softly. It’s not a question, strangely enough.

Krona smirks, walking closer, the blinking light of the security camera fading out.

The illusion of the glass on the cell dissipates, and Strange takes a step back, and Krona walks forward, circling the man like a cat with his prey. Krona knows how to make things better and worse. He smirks.

He lifts his hands, whispering a silent call and watches with satisfaction as the time stone lands in Krona’s hands. “What-”

“Silence!” Krona says. “You’re at my mercy now, Strange.”

Krona doesn’t say anything after that. Waiting. Strange is too, waiting for his demise, waiting for death to strike him.

Wait. Patience is key.

“DR. STRANGE!” A voice yells (Peter), panicked and shrill and scared. Just what Krona wants him to feel. “DR. STRANGE, WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU OKAY?” Strange moves to answer, and Krona’s neck glows. Strange freezes.

“Taking him was so easy,” Krona purrs, watching the confusion spike, his brow wrinkling ever so slightly. “Like taking candy from a _baby_ , as someone from earth could call it. I had wanted to do it the moment I met Peter.”

“Do what?” Strange retorts, crossing his arms. “The first time you two met you ran away, like a fucking coward.”

Krona snorts. “That’s the first time he tells you about. It was, though, the first time in many years.”

Strange is curious. He wants to know (which is perfect for the plan).

“Fate was a strange thing, back then. I knew what the cost could be, I realized that there are people who could stop me,” Krona says, walking leisurely around the wide-eyed man. “Peter is one of them. And I knew that I had to _ruin_ him, to crack him apart into so many shattered pieces he never sees the light again. He was only a child.”

Krona watches as Strange stares almost helplessly at him. He feels glee. What had his parents found, in this naive, foolish lifestyle? In the simplicity of humans? He supposes he will never know. (After all, Krona killed them).

“On May 23rd, 2009,” Krona says, and then the banging against the doors stops. Peter knows now, Peter knows. “Steven Westcott was arrested for the molesting of Peter Parker. They did not know-”

Then, what happens next is so surprising it actually knocks Krona off his feet.

Strange kicks his gut, face twisted with disgust, the cloak lifting up and giving Krona an extra smack for good measure. He then breaks out into a run, towards the door and it flies off the hinges, Peter standing there, wide-eyed.

Krona smirks, hoisting himself up, his hands glowing.

Strange freezes in time.

_All according to plan._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i hate my own character more than thanos now


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Loki Is Brilliant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “In a minute!” says Lady May, when there’s a bunch of clanging sounds and a glass shattering. “Oh, shit!” Lady May curses, then there's a kicking sound, and Lady May opens the door, rubbing something with a towel. “Hi, I-” She cuts herself off mid-sentence, staring at Loki with wide eyes.
> 
> “Hello… if I’m correct, you must be- May Parker?”
> 
> Lady May stares at Loki, jaw slack. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says. “As you seem to know, I’m Loki of Asgard. I really do hope you’ve gotten word of my pardon or this will be awkward.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve changed it so it was Peter who knocks down the door, not Loki, because I forgot to edit that out :/ That’s not what I meant to do.

Loki can’t help but feel bad about what he’s about to do.

Really, really bad. But Loki knows what kind of mindset that Peter is in right now, he understands the fear and the confusion and the desire to protect others, but he also knows that this mindset is terribly wrong. It is not wise for Starkson to think like this, and Loki shudders to think of how Krona could manipulate Peter this way.

All he needs is a little push…

So Loki awkwardly knocks on the apartment door, waiting.

“In a minute!” says Lady May, when there’s a bunch of clanging sounds and a glass shattering. “Oh, shit!” Lady May curses, then there's a kicking sound, and Lady May opens the door, rubbing something with a towel. “Hi, I-” She cuts herself off mid-sentence, staring at Loki with wide eyes.

“Hello… if I’m correct, you must be- May Parker?”

Lady May stares at Loki, jaw slack. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says. “As you seem to know, I’m Loki of Asgard. I really do hope you’ve gotten word of my pardon or this will be awkward.”

Lady May straightens herself, cheeks flushing pink. “Hello, Loki of Asgard- if I- uh, can I ask why you’re here?”

Loki nods, shifting uneasily. “Of course. Uh, well… I believe that you may have a nephew. Who is Spider-man.”

Loki waits. He waits for Lady May to start screaming about Loki’s insanity, or her to start whacking Loki (she’s done it before, it’s extremely painful). He squeezes his eyes shut, and waits. May is silent for a long moment.

Then suddenly a towel is flying in his face and a plate lands on the floor with a clang, Lady May pumping her fist into the air.

“I  _ knew  _ it!” She cries out, grinning. “Haha, take that, Julie!” She shrieks. “I  _ told you _ I wasn’t a pedophile!” She says, seeming to have forgotten that Loki is here. Loki peels the towel off his face, wiping off the soapy bubbles and water. “Uhm…” Loki begins.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Lady May says, taking the towel and picking up the barely intact plate. “It’s just, I’ve been having these memories about this teenage kid that I forgot I had which probably makes me a terrible guardian and he was Spider-man and I was talking about it the other day with Julie and she theorized that I was a pedophile but I was  _ not  _ a pedophile thank god I was right-”

“Now I know where Peter gets his rambling skills from,” Loki muses, and Lady May flushes. “I’m sorry. But why _ are  _ you here? You aren’t just here to tell me about my Spider-man nephew, are you?”

Loki smirks. “Of course not. I’m here to help you remember.”

~~~

“I’m so sorry for the mess,” Lady May says, pushing away the soapy mess of the sink counter. “I was washing the dishes when you came, so I didn’t have the time to clean this up. Would you like some walnut date loaf?” She asks.

Loki awkwardly shakes his head- god was he thinking? He should’ve brought the Maximoff girl to help. She adores Peter.

“So, uhm…” Lady May opens a cupboard and pulls out a pan full of bread, taking a slice. “How  _ are  _ you exactly going to help me remember my nephew?” She asks.

Loki pulls a spellbook out of his bag, waving it in Lady May’s face. “ _ This _ . It’s one of the last Asgardian spellbooks we have. I asked Thor if I could bring it with me. He agreed. Thor’s willing to do anything for Peter.”

“Okay, okay…” Lady May lets out a long sigh, guiding Loki towards the living room, plopping on the couch. “I take it that you’ll be in my head?”

Loki swallows. “Yes, if you are comfortable with it, Lady May.”

Lady May hesitates. “I- sure. I have a nephew to remember.”

Loki sits down, next to Lady May, flipping to the correct page in the spellbook. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Yep. Right. Let’s go.”

Loki places his fingers against Lady May’s forehead, whispering Asgardian under his breath. “Is it working?” Lady May asks.

Loki shrugs. “I’m not sure. I’m not the  _ most  _ skilled with mind spells.”

Lady May’s eyes shoot open, alarmed. “What? If you aren’t, then maybe this isn’t the  _ best  _ idea-”

“Shh!” Loki hisses, closing his eyes. “Shut up, I think it’s working. Silence.”

Lady May, to Loki’s surprise, doesn’t protest. She falls silent, and a dark, forest green glow begins to tint her eyes, Loki’s hands glowing. Is this supposed to happen? Please say this is supposed to happen.

“Close your eyes,” Loki says quietly.

“What?” Lady May asks. “Why? Is it working?”

“I’m pretty sure, yeah-”

_ “What was that?” _

_ “Uh, Nothing!” _

_ “The turkey meatloaf recipe is a disaster. Let’s go to dinner. Thai? Ned, you want Thai?” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ “No. He’s got a thing.” _

_ “A thing to do after.” _

“What is meatloaf?” Loki asks. No answer. Lady May’s eyes are closed, her face a little pinched. “You Midgardians are so weird.” He mumbles. “I think I’m going to leave, I’m pretty sure that these memories are private-”

_ “What’s the matter? Thought you loved larb. It’s too larby? Not larby enough. How many times do I have to say “larb” before you talk to me? You know I larb you.” _

“I guess not,” Loki says to himself, looking around in wonder.

_ “I’m just stressed. The internship and I’m tired. A lot of work.” Peter says, giving Lady May a small smile. He looks tired. Very, very tired. He takes a small bite of the food. What is Larb, anyway? _

_ “The Stark internship.” Lady May shakes her head. “I have to tell you, not a fan of that Tony Stark. Distracted all the time... he’s got you in your head.” She says and suddenly turns, looking at a TV behind her. _

_ “The beloved Queens’ institution, Delmar’s Sandwiches, was destroyed…” _

_ “What does he have you doing?” _

_ “...in an explosion…” _

_ “You need to use your instincts. _

_ “...earlier tonight after an ATM robbery was thwarted by Queens’ own colorful local crime-stopper, the Spider-Man. As the Spider-Man attempted to foil their heist, a powerful blast was set off, slicing through the bodega across the street. Miraculously, no one was harmed.” _

_ “If you spot something like that happening, you turn and you run the other way.” _

_ Peter looks surprised, blinking owlishly. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.” He mumbles, clearly not paying attention. _

_ “Six blocks away from us.” _

_ “I... uh... I need a new backpack.” _

Loki notices the memory starting to become blurry, pieces fading slowly, and he begins chanting again. Surely there are more memories than this. Lady May needs to remember. Now.

_ “You. Cut the bullshit. I know you left detention. I know you left the hotel room in Washington. I know you sneak out of this house every night. That’s not fine. Peter, you have to tell me what’s going on. Just lay it out. It’s just me and you.” _

_ “I lost the Stark internship.” _

_ “What?” _

_ “Yeah.” _

_ “What happened?” _

_ “I just thought that I could work really hard and he could, he would, you know. But I screwed it up.” _

_ “Oh... It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s okay.” _

The scene changes and Loki’s hands glow even brighter. “Maybe I  _ should  _ get into mind magic.” He mumbles.

_ Peter stands in front of Lady May, walking around in the Spider-man suit. Lady May gapes. _

_ “WHAT THE-” _

_ He turns around, jumping back with wide eyes. “May! I- uh, it’s- It’s not what it looks like! I- I-” He hurriedly presses the spider emblem in his chest, and it falls, leaving the teen in his boxers, his eyes wide and fearful. “I- uh… cosplay?” _

_ “Young man,” Lady May says. “You’re Spider- you’re-” _

_ “NO! NO I’M NOT, I UH- I’M COSPLAYING WITH NED?” _

_ Lady May crosses her arms, her brows furrowed. _

_ “Should I call Ned? IS THIS WHAT THE INTERNSHIP WITH MR. STARK IS?” _

_ Peter visibly deflates, looking down awkwardly and fiddling with his fingers. “Uh, yeah. Kinda.” _

Loki blinks. The scene changes again.

_ “What do you mean, it was for his own good! Did you see him? He was fucking distraught!” _

Loki takes a step back, staring at the angry Lady May on the phone, pacing the living room, her face flushed with anger. Loki… has never heard May curse. Loki feels a little bit bad for the person on the other end.

_ “I don’t care! You blackmailed a teenager, took him to Berlin, you liar! I can- and I WILL charge you for kidnapping, Stark. You hear me?” _

_ She pauses, listening to the phone before her face twists into something so ferocious Loki has to take another step back. “I don’t care that he told you not to! He is a minor, Stark! I’m his guardian. I HAVE THE RIGHT TO KNOW!” _

_ Stark says something that makes Lady May visibly deflate. _

_ “I know… I know. Look, I’ll talk to you later. But don’t think you’re off the hook.” _

Loki stumbles back, the glow disappearing from his fingers and Lady May’s eyes fly open. “Peter? Where’s Peter, oh my god, I can’t believe-”

Loki coughs, his movements sluggish. Energy fading. “I am-” He rubs his face, staring at his hands. “-never doing that again. Never.” He mumbles. He raises his voice to speak to Lady May. “So, that’s that, uh, I’m going to wipe my mind from all the rotten fluffy domestic-ness I’ve just witnessed, I’m almost completely sure that those memories are private. I shall give you some time to adjust to your memories-”

Loki is whacked in the face with a pillow.

“I’m coming with you,” Lady May declares, her face pinched. “I’m going to see my nephew that I forgot, dear god, I can't believe...”

“I- I don’t believe that’s a good idea, Lady May, we currently have a time Overlord in Stark’s basement-”

Lady May sends Loki a look, and Loki winces.

“Okay! Okay, yes, ma’am. You can come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so since my dumb butt couldn't wait until after I finished this book to post a new one, it's now one chapter a time so I don't abandon one of my books


End file.
